Once upon a faerytale
by Aoi Akiko
Summary: [Chapter 5&6,7&Epilogue] Set in a medieval theme, upon the lives our heroes few... Perchance our heroes win this war of love and hate, or die and endure to fulfill thy fates...? [complete]
1. Beginning notes

Yes. _Mighty Ducks, the animated series_ belongs to me… And right now, I'm planning an alternate reality where Dragaunus goes insane, his henchmen joins the circus, Phil becomes the Duck's disgruntled butler, and all the Ducks having ducklings by the age of 25… 

*sees men in white suits holding out a peculiar jacket* Wait, wait, wait… you mean it *doesn't* belong to me…?! Oh fiddlesticks…

***  
To answer would-be weird questions…

I lost a bet, pure and simple. And so, I was challenged to write this fic… All was well and good… until he added one small condition…

_"… oh, and one more thing… You can't mention any character names throughout the whole story…"  
"Whaddaya mean 'I can't mention any character names throughout the whole story'…?!?! How *am* I supposed to write a fic without writin—"  
"You can use descriptions… And besides, all the fans out there know who they are anyway, so it'll be alright…"  
"…"_

*pout* So, this is the result…

***  
Ah, but I'm allowed to put in a small introduction before the actual story, so here goes…

The story is set with a medieval theme in mind. 

Characters:

Canard - Supposed-to-be King. He was kidnapped by the Saurians and has been thought dead all these years...

Wildwing - Cousin to _Canard_. In _Canard_'s absence, he has no choice but to rule in his stead, in all matters (including marriage. See _Ambrosia_).   
He is frustrated young man who doesn't want to be King, but has accepted it as his duty to his Royal blood. A little doubtful at times at his abilities, his protectiveness for the things he loves drives him onward...

Nosedive - Cousin to _Canard_. He was kidnapped together with _Canard_, escaped, but lost his memories. He was rescued by a band of Puckworld raiders who later raised him as one of their own...  
He is a impulsive youth who speaks his mind and often does not look before he leaps. However, once he accepts company, he shows his truer qualities of friendship...

Mallory - Knight, specifically, _Ambrosia_'s personal guard (and confidant). She was sent to Galaxia a year prior to meet and acquiant the Princess with her future duties to her King...  
She is a temperamental youth who is deadly with a sword, deadlier with her words. Only those close to her see the vulnerable woman within...

Duke - Knight, specifically, _Wildwing_'s personal guard (and best friend). He grew up with _Falcone_ in the villages, and worked his way up the ranks  
He is fiercely protective of his King (and Queen). Yet, though he is skilled in all manners of weaponry, he prefers to be the voice of reason in any situation before drawing his arms...

Tanya - Mage, _Wildwing_'s first advisor, Mallory's best friend. Her family has been the Royal bloods for a few generations, and though the Council belives she should have been born male, _Wildwing_ thinks otherwise and welcomes her services  
She is quiet and reserve, spending most of her time with her scrolls and spells. Yet, despite her silent guise, she can be frighteningly powerful if provoked...

Falcone - Knight. He grew up with _Duke_ and joined the knights at the same time, but lacking ambition, he seems content with his rank and has remained there since  
He is a coward at heart, his weaknesses include money, women and his life...

Grin - Bandit, _Nosedive_'s best friend. An orphan himself, he has since shared his tent with the younger Puckworlder for the better half of 10 years...  
Quiet, wise and acts as a pillar of strength... Really, I haven't much to say, do I...?

Ambrosia - Princess, promised to _Canard_, but since he is absent, she belongs to the King (_Wildwing_). She has been prepared all her life to serve as a wife to a foreign empire..._  
This is my own character from my universe StarrRealm (go to h t t p : / / w w w . a n g e l f i r e . c o m / m d 2 / S t a r r R e a l m 2 / G S / K y r e / S / C h e r i . h t m if you're interested...). Her original character came from Cheri L'amour Katka. I diverge from my own universe a little for this story, but I'll explain a little of her character…Her home was Galaxia, a small country populated exclusively by females. Thus the reason (as you read the story) to Mallory being sent a year prior her presentation to Wildwing, to be her guard. This shall also be the reason to her shyness to males…  
Since I'm not allowed to mention her name, here's her description: Ambrosia has waist-length mahogany hair and intensely dark blue eyes. She stands at 5'6", and shall be about a head shorter than Wildwing… _

I've rambled enough… On with the story…!! ^_^


	2. Introduction

No. _Mighty Ducks, the animated series_ not mine.   
But _Princess Ambrosia _and story are mine ^_^

***

_Once upon a time…  
_Once upon a time there was a fair Kingdom where Puckworlders and Saurians lived in harmony, both races holding an equilibrium that shaped this beautiful world…  
_Once upon a time…  
_Once upon a time there was slight malcontent between the two worlds… Then, like a drop of water marring the perfection of an unadultered lake, it ripples grew to frightening proportions…  
_Once upon a time…  
_Wars were fought, and the wars were won. The Saurians were banished to the barren Outlands beyond the distant borders of the Kingdom, forbidden to return under punishment of death…  
That had been a century ago…

_Once upon a time…  
_Once upon a time there were 3 cousins, of which 2 shared the same blood. The eldest was to be King, the latter his most trusted companions.   
_One would be blinded by time, another by duty, the third by the darkness…_

_Once upon a time…  
_Once upon a time there were 2 friends frolicking by the village, acting out swordfights with practice play-swords. The native one would almost always win, his whining mate stumbling backwards into stream, mud or haystack.  
_One would betray his King, the other his beating heart…_

_Once upon a time…  
_Once upon a time there were 3 women situated in 3 glaringly different positions. Yet in some ways, each of their lives mirrored one another's, serving the single entity reigning over their fragile lives…  
_One would find her place among her books, the next her sword, the last her people…_

_Once upon a time…_

***

Onward, to the Prologue...!!

*psst* Hey, hey...! Can you tell me who's who when I wrote, _One would be blinded by time, another by duty, the third by the darkness…; One would betray his King, the other his beating heart…_; and _One would find her place among her books, the next her sword, the last her people…_ If you get it all correct, I'd dedicate a chapter to you...!!


	3. Prologue 10 years before

No. _Mighty Ducks, the animated series_ not mine.   
But _Princess Ambrosia _and story are mine ^_^

***

Prologue   
- 10 years ago - 

They thundered past the skeletal forest like swift wolves, bounding over bush, rock and fallen tree. What they could not avoid, they ploughed through, armored hides shielding them from splintered bark and protesting leaves. What was left in their wake were the trees' mourning of loss for their unfortunate companion, the wind echoing their cry of eternal sorrow…

_Just one more… Just one more… Just one more…_the elder one chanted in his mind, the jagged rock in his hand gnawing at the coarse bindings that tied him to his kin. The smaller one of the two trembled with fear, for he was young and the world was dark, with much fear surrounding them, captives of savages the Kingdom had long since thought extinct since its' banishment to the Outlands… 

_Yes…!!_ the taller boy's heart leap for joy as the rope snapped inaudibly, the cords loosening past his chaffed wrists. His charge replaced his piteous whimpering with a squeak of surprise, "Wha—"

"Shh!!" the more learned one chided the child gently, holding his small beak firmly, "You may give us away, little one…" He jerked his blood-brother closer and whispered his plan, "We only have one chance for this, so we must work fast and work well. I'll distract the guards while you run away. Head east, towards the rising Phoenix. I'll meet yo—"

"But what if you get caught…!!" a small frightened voice protested as he yanked his beak back, small hands curled into tightening fists.

"Then… at least you'd be safe…"

The blond-haired child sniffled, "I-I… d-don't want to g-go…"

The elder one by 10 years patted the shaking figure in his arms, "You must, little one… If I am caught, then… you must go to seek help… 

"Think of it as a royal duty, little one…"

The younger boy sniffled as he lifted his head, "A duty to the King…?"

The former smiled. "A duty to the King…"

"Then I will do as the King commands…"

Less than a heartbeat later, a wild cry rang through the hollow night, pale feathers reflecting the light of the dying moon as a figure crashed through the throng of wild beasts. Limbs caught jaws unaware, as his crude weapons drew blood and cut through vulnerable flesh. Picking himself up from his fall, he hesitated, if only a little, before turning blindly away from the chaos he had created and ran for his life…

Squeezing his way away from the gory scene was a blue-eyed child, weaving through the maze of muscle and metal to the sanctuary of the forest. No one noticed him as he wound his way past the vicious current of towering giants, his angelic tresses hidden by the dark cloak once belonging to his relative.

That is, until the river of darkness suddenly vanished, leaving him with neither shelter nor hiding place. 

"Look there – the princeling is escaping…!!"

Not daring to turn back, he ran faster. Faster than the thundering hoof beats that followed him to his sanctuary. Faster than the hammering heart beats that pounded within his small chest. 

A bramble forest leapt before his eyes. He did not stop. He tore into it, ignoring the stings it left as flesh and feathers were split and scattered…

"The _H*L_—" the hooded figure chasing him cursed, his steed rearing against the black gate of thorns. His companion rode up beside him, "Ch, the brat'll be the death of us if he tells what has happened this night…!!" 

A third brought his horse between them, a ball of blue fire in his gaunt hand. 

"Ah… but only _IF_ he *remembers* what has happened this night…"

The azure-white fireball was released. A moment later, a strangled cry resounded in the distance. The three horsemen chuckled darkly, turning their mounts away, "Let us return to the Raptor…

"The child is as good as gone…"

~*~*~*~

Another night had descended upon the castle. The knights filtered through the arched portals wearily, their most recent discovery weighing heavily in their hearts. Their leader said a silent prayer to the gods watching over them, preparing himself to deliver the sorrowful news…

The doors to the King's inner sanctum burst open as he pushed past the oaken leaves. Immediately, thirteen pairs of eyes were laid upon his body. 

One body, a slight one, slammed into him. 

"What news from the rides, my faithful guide…?! What news of my brother and my cousin…?!?!"

The weathered knight did not dare look into the youth's eyes for fear of showing his despair too soon. Instead, he knelt before the white-feathered lad and brought out a torn cloak—

The gathered Council shrank back in fear at what the torn cloak signified…

Then the swordsman produced a handful of pale feathers and deposited it into the stricken boy's open hand. The younger man looked down…

Blood smeared past his white hands, glinting off every shaft…

"No…"

"We are truly sorry, my Lord…" the kneeling figure announced, dropping his head further, "We fear your cousin has been captured by the Wild Saurians in the West…

"As for you brother… 

"We regret to report that he is dead…"

The Council shook with panic and confusion. Amidst the chaos, no one heard the sickening crack of the bone hitting frigid stone as the last surviving member of the Royal House dropped away from consciousness, his world shattered…

~*~*~*~

Far away, a timid child gasped as she sat up from her bed, her mahogany braid undone. As the images in her head danced on the borders of her fragile consciousness, she began to cry. 

~*~*~*~

"The men have returned…!!" a shrill cry sounded through the crude encampment. Immediately, the women and children leap to their feet, running to greet their husbands and fathers returning from their raids…

Bright eyes scanned the many faces that trooped through the sentry gates, her heart praying for safe journey for her only beloved. The last rider came through, the gates closed. Her heart clenched uneasily. 

"Boo…!" 

She shrieked, the pan in her hand striking flesh as she brought it upon her attacker. The larger figure stumbled painfully to the ground, holding his sore head. He protested through his vehement cursing, "Argh! And to think you'd be happy to see me…!!"

"_YOU_!!" she exclaimed indignantly, then in relief, "_You_…!!" Slamming herself into him, she muffled her frustrations in the crook of his shoulder, "I was so worried… so worried…"

"Hn. Women…" he grunted teasingly, "One minute they're beating you black and blue, the next, they're all over you…"

The clang of metal upon gauntlet made many cringe…

"Oi, stop being so unfair – I'm _*UNARMED*_…!!" the husband growled, wrenching the heavy black utensil from his wife's hand before it could inflict more damage upon his person. She merely spat a foul word, "Me…? _UNFAIR_…?! _*YOU*_ were the one who sneaked up on _*ME*_!! And where were you befor—"

He silenced her with a searing kiss, guiding her to him. Almost predictably, she relaxed in his arms, her limbs falling obediently beside her. Around them were innocent whistles and stifled chuckles…

"I came in with wounded, beloved…" he informed as he guided her to the tent that served as their infirmary, "I did not dare risk his wounds any longer…"

She turned to stare at him, her features puzzled, "Wounded…? Who was wounded…?" 

He shrugged. Pulling back the curtain, he let her see for herself the identity of the infirmed.

"A _child_…?!" she gasped, falling by the bed, "Gods – what _*happened*_ to him…!!" 

The healer within threw them a glare, but knew better to chide. Minutes later, his duties done, he left the unconscious one with the two adults. 

"I do not know what had happened for him to acquire such grievous wounds, my dearest," the bandit admitted, sighing to sit behind his young spouse, "We found him at the edge of the Brambles as we rode past…"

"He is so young…"

Indeed. The frail figure on the pale sheets could not be more than 5 to 6 years of age. She sighed, wondering what beast would abuse such a vulnerable thing. _Surely not his parents or kin… _she reasoned, banishing the thought as she combed through his golden crown. 

Suddenly, the youngster winced, her hand perhaps pressing against his bandaged head. She removed it. Behind her, her mate rose to regard the one he had rescued. 

Cornflower blue eyes blinked once. Twice. Turning to his rescuers, he stared blankly. 

"Who am I…?"

***

Onward, to Chapter 1... *sweatdrop* Ai...

Meanwhile, comments...? Reviews...? Rotten tomatoes...?


	4. Chapter 1

No. _Mighty Ducks, the animated series_ not mine.   
But _Princess Ambrosia _and story are mine ^_^

~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 1  
- Present day - 

~*~*~*~*~

The Royal sword clattered loudly against the stone floor as the young ruler fell, his battle lost. 

"Sire…!!" his personal guard threw caution to the wind and leapt to his liege's side. 

Almost immediately, he was flipped onto his back, a dagger pressed to his throat. His antagonist grinned from where he loomed over the unfortunate knight. 

"Lesson #1: Never underestimate your opponent…" 

"Oh really…?" In a flash, the gray-feathered man had the tables turned, swiping at his attacker's legs and rolling them both some distance from their original position. When the scuffled ended, the seasoned warrior was straddling his former assailant's back, forcing the other man's wrists so that the blade caressed his own skin…!!

"And I return the lesson to you…" the elder Puckworlder purred, before releasing his captive's wrists gently and allowing his voice to enter revered normalcy, "… Sire…"

The white-feathered youth groaned and dejectedly dropped his head against the sparring mat, "Must you be so thorough with me, old friend…?"

The taller one bubbled with rich laughter, "One does not slack when training his apprentice, my liege… Not even if his apprentice is the King…" Firm hands began kneading the knotted muscles tensed under the sovereign's skin, "I apologize for hurting you, my liege…"

"Mm-mmm…? Consider yourself forgiven…"

To the untrained eye, the thin line between Royal blood and commoner seemed to have blurred so severely, it could have been deemed taboo. Therefore, it came as a shock for the young page that stumbled into the training room, seeing his King and the Kingdom's most decorated knight in such a… delicately compromising… position…

"My Liege, I have urgent news to—_EEP_!!"

Said page colored sufficiently to camouflage himself amongst the Royal drapes, turning swiftly away from the sight as his elders untangled themselves from their predicament. Immediately he fell to his trembling knees and bowed to the ground, though in the wrong direction, "Forgiveme,myLiege,yourservantdidnotmeantointrud—"

"Calm _down_, young one…!!" a comforting hand was laid on the boy's shoulder, "You did not intrude on anything, thus there is nothing to be afraid of…" The shaking page peered past his unruly bangs to see his Master looking down tenderly at him, warm assurance radiating from his mahogany-colored pupils. "Come now, what is this urgent news you have brought me…?"

The command snapped the littlest one's attention, "Oh yes…! Your Majesty, the Sentries report spotting the Galaxian entourage entering the Kingdom's fair skies…!!"

The white-feathered ruler startled instantly, "So soon…?" His most trusted right-hand man echoed his thoughts, "The Princess' ship…?! But they were not expected for another 3 days…!!"

"The Sentries calculate the entourage's arrival within the hour…" the dutiful messenger relayed. 

"AN HOUR?!?!"

The two adults raced out of the room, whirling past jeweled hallways and polished steps as swiftly as their feet could fly them. "Why were we not informed of this new development…?! And *how* did they manage to travel so quickly…?!?!" the panicked monarch hissed, skidding past his chambers and leaping into it. His Head Advisor was already there, quickly launching himself at the King's tardiness. Tuning the droning man's chidings, the white-feathered youth allowed his personal maids to surround him – stripping him off his soiled training clothes, anointing him with scented oils, and dressing him in a flurry of silk, velvet and gold… 

Less than half-an-hour later, the crowned Monarch stepped out from behind his private curtain. To his surprise (and chagrin), his Personal Guard stood before regally him, already bathed and decked handsomely in his ceremonial uniform. How *did* his Royal Knight manage to dress himself so quickly—with_OUT_ the aid from countless servants and maids, beside—AND still have time to wait for his Lordship, whence he himself had been caught in the same dilemma mere moments before, the young King did not know…

Straightening himself to infuse a confidence he did not feel, the younger man asked his dearest companion, "Well… how do I look…?"

"Like a nervous wreck, Your Majesty…"

The Royal blood glared balefully at his Guardian Knight. 

"Well… you *did* ask…!!"

~*~*~*~

A lyrical horn sounded as the Royal Carrier-Ship berthed, securing itself onto the castle's elegant dock. The distant blaring only served to make the Royal Puckworlder ever more overwrought with nervousness. He had learnt of his betrothal to the Galaxian Princess a mere month before, where else the Princess had been brought up her whole life with the knowledge of her royal duties to him. 

_What if she does not like me…? What if I do not appear as she has assumed…? What if I do not perform as well as I should, being one of Royal Blood…? Oh stars… Dearest cousin mine, why did you have to leave me this dut—_

"You are alright, Your Majesty…" came the soothing voice of his devoted mentor and closest friend, leaning towards his ear, "You shall be a good husband to her…" 

He calmed. Not immediately, but eventually, his fears were willing away. Nodding steadfastly, he whispered back, "Thank you, old friend…"

His own trumpeters blew at their instruments, announcing the arrival of the foreign Princess to the throne room. The arched leaves spread apart to welcome her. The monarch rose from his royal seat, as did the twelve members of his Council surrounding him…

A procession of women glided gracefully into the receiving chamber. First, twelve pairs of Royal guards, each bearing the Imperial seal upon their arms… Following were a quartet of solemn candle-bearers, their pastel gowns trailing… Surrounding an ethereal palanquin were eight hand-maidens, hovering close to who would be their Princess… Behind this were several Puckworld Guards, all female, carrying the Galaxian Emblem… Leading the last troop was a slight but confident Knight, her cherry-red braid trailing behind her…

The veiled palanquin and Emblem-bearers separated and stopped, side-by-side one another. One of the hand-maidens struck a bell, and the whole procession sank to one knee. The awed King wondered how long hath his bride's party prepared for this day…

"The Kingdom welcomes the lovely Princess from yonder lands," the Head of the Council addressed the gathering, stepping from his usual lectern, bowing low towards the figure behind the fluttering veil. She returned with a slight nod…

"And the Royal House welcomes the return of our Sister in arms," the gray-feathered Knight continued, approaching the female guard that knelt at the forefront of her Emblem-bearers. He smiled and held out a hand, "It's good to see you again, dear friend…"

"It's good to see you too…" her voice answered, but to his surprise, it did not originate from the one kneeling before him, but from the portals of the throne room. "Alas, once again, you approach the wrong woman bearing a disguised identity…"

He startled, turning to the oaken doors, his hand reaching for his sword. "Wh—" he began, as the shadow that bore the voice of his old friend stepped forward. Immediately, the court recognized their most respected female Guard. There was no mistake – her fiery braid, her shining emerald eyes, her gleaming sword…

Now, it was the King who gasped out a question. "B-but… if you're *there*… Then who is sh—?"

"We beg forgiveness for our deception, Your Majesty," the returned Knight sank easily onto her knees. "Nonetheless, I pledge to the Queen no harm would befall her daughter, thus we set a rouse to avert the enemy's eyes should there be any unforeseen attacks…"

She snapped her fingers. Instantly, the bevy of hand-maidens guarding the palanquin rushed towards the mistaken 'Head Guard', silken sashes clutched in their hands. The first trio began removing the protective armor piece-by-piece…

The court gasped.

From beneath the Puckworlder-shaped helmet, chocolate curls cascaded onto bared shoulders, framing a foreign beauty unparalleled. As the hip-girdle was removed, her maids fitted a fuller, more feminine skirt. Another brought a sash, a third busying herself with the Royal jewels…

They fell away from her, sinking to the ground like scattered petals surrounding the fragile flower blooming within their axis. Stepping past the personal maids, the cherry-braided Guard produced an intricately woven silver tiara and slid it onto her charge's flawless forehead. 

"Your Majesty, members of the Royal House and Council… I present the King's bride, Princess Ambrosia of Galaxia…"

~*~*~*~

The entire court bustled with activity that night, the Kingdom's most reputable people invited to feast, sharing this joyous occasion with their King. Jesters and bard-singers entertained the guests in selected booths as the young serving lads scuttled about from the kitchens to the tables, groaning under the weight of their trays laden with tantalizing platters and addictive _vino_. From their music box, the court musicians enticed couples to join in spirited dance to their lively tunes, urging them to forget their troubles and enter this blissful merrymaking…

But alas, not all were smiling this cheery eve.

"You have not eaten much, my dear…" the concerned monarch commented quietly as he leaned towards his new queen, a hand laid on her own. She gasped soundlessly, shyly removing her pale appendage to her silent lap, head downcast, face flushed lightly. He sighed, "I apologize for the lengthy celebration, beloved… Perhaps I should have postponed our wedding till you have rested. Are you tired, my Queen…?"

She flickered her cerulean-blue eyes to him, then returned to gaze at her folded hands. Hesitantly, she nodded in response to his inquiry. 

He smiled gently, understanding her wordless reply. He supposed he should wring his Head Advisor's neck for her exhaustion. Had it not been him to suggest they marry immediately following the Princess' arrival from yonder lands, she might have regained enough strength to converse with him. 

It struck him odd, this silence she kept, consciously sealing his lips. The rumors on the wind told of her family's gift of song, yearning ears traveling from faraway lands to listen to the sweet aria sung by a choir of three, bound by name and blood. Even his loyal Knight, who later became her personal bodyguard, had written to report the soulful voice of her Princess that could make the sweetest nightingales weep in shame. Why did his mate find reason to hide her voice now…?

He beckoned for his Personal Guard, his requests made known in swift yet tiresomely formal sentences. The gray feathered man nodded, once, to confirm his order. He rushed to relay the message to the Head of the Council before returning to his majesty's side. 

"I call for the attention of the Court…!!" the plump Puckworlder boomed, rising from his chair. His personal servant boy further accented his announcement by blowing his horn (at the Council members, who, doubtless, should be half-deaf by now). The chatter and music quietened immediately, heads turned to his direction in respectful acknowledgement. 

"The King thanks his loyal subjects for their presence this fine evening. His heart dances with much joy to share this commemorative _union _with his new wife with his people…" he paused for effect, his audience snickering discreetly. "But now, the King and his Queen must retire to their _bedchambers_, for the evening must come to a close… People of Puckworld, let us raise our glasses and send well-wishes to our King for a _night _of blessing…" Rising his goblet, he turned to the most lavishly decorated table across his own, "To the King, and our new Queen…"

"Hear, hear…!!" the crowd echoed, glasses ready to be consumed, drinking to their monarch's health and future. 

At his own table, the young ruler groaned and wondered how much wine had his usually placid Councilor consumed to choose such ill-fitting words considering the circumstances, especially in the presence of such a shy child seated beside him. Nonetheless, he nodded in forced gratitude, mirroring his court's actions and downing his golden chalice. 

His concluding gesture was met with thunderous applause. He smiled and waved to his court, withdrawing with his dutiful new wife by his side. His Royal Guard led the way into the sanctuary of his protective home, a handful of her handmaidens trailing behind them…

He stole a glance at his beauty, noticing her cheeks ablaze with tranquil fire. He sighed, _Remind me to speak to the old coot, first thing in the morning…_

~*~*~*~

The doors to his chambers split open. With a snap of his fingers, his Guard commanded the spelled candles of the room to awaken, welcoming their Master into his realm. The gentle husband led his newly-wedded dear into the room, thanking his most trusted escort on the way. 

He guided her to the doors of his private chambers, parting the doors to invite her in. She lifted her eyes a moment to take in the room, widening slightly with apprehension before returning to her mask of passiveness, nodding once before entering. He kissed her cheek tenderly while holding her hand, "I promise I will not be long…" 

Her handmaidens disappeared with her and shut the door behind them. He sighed in defeat and turned to slump into a chair. 

"Sire…?" the regal man guarding the door questioned lightly, eyeing his younger companion with brotherly concern. 

"She does not like me, my friend…" he mumbled, covering his eyes with his hand, "You can see she bears my affections with dignity as to not shame our Kingdoms, but she does little to respond…"

His comrade shrugged, "Perhaps she is afraid, my liege…"

"Afraid…?" the younger man repeated, "Ah, that must be it… She is afraid of me, then…?"

"I did not mean it in such fashion, my liege…" his confidant approached his ruler and knelt before him, "Think of her situation for a moment if you will, Sire…

"She is a Princess born in a society of high matriarchal standing, never to have laid eyes on a male till the day she is to be wedded," he touched the white hand fingering the gold wedding-band absently, "Furthermore, she finds herself promised to a stranger of foreign name and birth and race… Would she not be afraid of this day, and this night…? 

"Would _you_ not be afraid if you were in her place…?"

The young monarch continued to stare at his hands, turning the unaccustomed piece of jewelry around and around. He nodded miserably, "I just wish it was not I to meet her with these circumstances, my friend…" He turned to the large family portrait that hung slightly behind him, "I-if… If it were my cousin or brother, would they have felt the same, I wonder…?"

"Well, you know how it is – blood _is_ thicker than water…" the elder chuckled as he stood, "Knowing your family, all you kiddies would prol'ly be running to whacky ol'me for advice…"

"_Kiddies_…?!?!" the youth choked indignantly, but laughter danced at the corner of his mouth, "We are not *that* young…!!" 

Glad his superior had broken out of the threat of depression, the knight laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. A moment later, the doors to his inner rooms clicked open, his bride's handmaidens emerging and bowing towards him, awaiting their leave. He sighed again, but at least it did not sound as discouraging as before. He stood and turned to his companion. 

His Knight held his arm kindly, "Be gentle… be good…"

~*~*~*~

The door clicked shut behind him, making him jump. He chided himself lightly, _Some King you are… What impression do you portray to your wife as her protecto—_

His eyes scanned the room, and he realized in alarm that he was alone in the immediate vicinity. His heart clenched in alarm, _Where could she be—_

Purest white contrasted against the dark of night, reflected by lunar's blessing. A figurine stood like an angel at his private balcony overlooking the city…

He removed his ceremonial cloak and heavy outer coats before approaching her, folding it over the back of a chair. He knocked on the arched frame opening to his beloved's presence, "There you are…" 

She turned slightly to the side, acknowledging he was behind her. Then she turned swiftly to the sleeping city spread before her. Still, not a word left her lips…

He came by her and turned to view the landscape that had ensnared her attention. "Puckworld… My Kingdom—no, _our_ Kingdom…" he moved a hand to twine their fingers, before murmuring, "Home…"

She tensed under his touch, but did not react. He noticed her slight shivering…

"The night is cold…" he whispered, his hand making its way up her bare arm, "We should seek warmer comfort inside…" He pressed his beak to her pale cheek, "Come, let us go to bed…"

She allowed him to lead her away from her refuge, the silent connection of Queen and Country severed momentarily. The balcony doors were closed, the transparent curtains let to whisper against the floor. He sat her on the bed and knelt before her. 

She reacted, though not terribly violent. Her hands moved unconsciously to cover her lap, shielding hungry eyes from lingering too long. He turned to her, to find her attempting speech but failing much…

"You are beautiful," he remarked, leaning up to kiss her. 

"Do you wish to bed me…?" 

The question caught him unaware, as did her hushed voice. It was the first time he had heard her speak…

"Princess—"

"Do you wish to bed me…?" she repeated, a little louder, a little more firm. Her eyes begged an answer as her hands tightened in her lap. 

He sank onto his ankles once more and stared at her. Catching her wrists, he wrestled them away to the sides and flickered his eyes at her lap. He swallowed, the distinctive bulge of his throat bobbing once. She froze. 

"I will not lie to you, dear one… Our Kingdoms have united us. Our duty is one. Puckworld shall await an heir…" he raised his head, "Thus the answer is _yes_, I will wish to… _ bed_ you…" 

Then he released her hands and leaned upwards to capture her parted lips. "But I can see the fear in your eyes, Princess, of how unsure you are of this night…" he tilted her chin to face him, "You are unprepared for this, Princess… And I would loathe myself to force something so undesired…"

Surprise misted over her fear, "But you just said—"

"I'd admit, dear one, I shall envy the bed as it cradles you, as well as the covers that will embrace you tonight…" he laid her back on the prepared bed, closing the distance between them in liplock, "But I will not approach you until you are ready…

"Sleep well, Princess… Good night…"

He pulled the warm coverlets up her chest, and began to depart. 

"… wait…" she whispered, sitting up and catching his fading shadow, "If I… take the bed… then where will you sleep, my liege…?"

"There is a chaise in my outer room, beloved…" he explained. 

"… you could share the bed…" she suggested meekly. 

"I cannot promise you anything, my love…" he confessed, prying her fingers away from his forearm, "Please, trust your King, if not your husband… You've had a tiresome day… Rest…"

And with that, he left her to the comfort of shadows. 

~*~*~*~

A golden-haired angel burst from her chambers. 

"Mustn't be late. Mustn't be late. Mustn't be late…!!" she chanted, a frantic refrain echoing through the hollow hallways, the palace residence still clinging to precious slumber. 

"Key, key, key… Must find the key…!!" her mantra exchanged words as she dug through her dark robes, unseeing hands searching for her object of relevance. Balancing her books and potion bottles and all else precariously on one knee, she wailed to the air as she turned out her pockets and satchels, leaning against the ornate doors, "O, where are ye, Master Key…?!" 

The door swung inwards. And her with it. 

"_Macareth!!_" came the alarmed squeal as she felt herself tumbling, her precious belongings denied equilibrium. A hand automatically flung itself upwards to quell their descend, "_Jivanche, miris, deshyr – zyr'quetta!!_"

The one who had unfastened the lock to the door cringed as the other fell with a most painful thud. On the other hand, her possessions hovered duly in the air above her, spinning gently with the breeze…

"A… mage…?" a new voice observed, making the company three. 

"Indeed…" the knight standing by the door grinned, leaning forward to aid her fallen comrade. The magician groaned as her back protested against movement, but was grateful for the lent assistance. Standing up, she began collecting her things from where they hung, suspended in space. The female knight helped by gently nudging the items, floating them towards their Sacred Mother, "It is good to see you again, friend…"

"You *could* have given me fair warning, _friend_…!!" came the indignant retort, followed by a miserable sniff, "Such is our unfortunate reunion…"

Her mate chuckled, "You _never_ change…!!" Ignoring the growing pile between them, she drew her longer arms around her smaller companion for an embrace, "I've missed you so…"

"_Sereth_…!!" the other blushed hotly, then smiled, "The castle has been quiet without you, Mistress of Tempers…"

"Oh, be quiet, you…"

A stifled giggle caught their attention, and they turned to the inner room to see the neo-Queen steadfast in her position beside the door. To the magick's surprise, her Lady had awakened, dressed, and tidied after herself, though the hour was early and the mists had not lifted. 

"M'Lady…!!" she snapped from her reverie, reminded of her purpose of presence this morning in the King's chambers. Striding purposefully towards the foreign beauty, she enquired hurriedly as she bowed and took up the foreign beauty's hand, "Are you well, M'Lady? Any ailments, discomforts, complain—"

The cherry-braided knight was not so obscure in her questioning, "Did he hurt you, M'Lady…?"

"_Lemareth DuCaine_…!!" lavender eyes flew wide open, "There *is* a thing called _TACT_, dear knight…!!"

The emerald fire would not be ignored, "Well, did he…?"

The shy girl retreated her hand, hanging her head, "W-we… H-he… The King did nothing to me last night…"

"_WHAT?!?!_"

"I-I… remain untouched…"

"_WHY?!?!_"

She turned away, her sorrowful eyes clinging to the slightly ruffled sheets bearing the imprint of one, "He… noticed I was… not yet ready…"

"So he let you sleep alone…?!" came the blonde magus' cry of disbelief, to which the young former Princess nodded. Blue eyes snapped in alarm as the foreigner realized something, "The King… H-he… He isn't angry with me… is he…?"

The question was not answered, but the emerald-eyed woman could contain her laughter no longer, throwing her head back as the joyous hoots of amusement shook through her frame. Her fellow colleague only shook her head and rolled her eyes at her embarrassing antics. 

"Oh, Princess…" the armored maiden wound down from her hysteria, embracing the Royal blood as if her kinswoman, "Our King could hardly raise his voice against his subjects, least of all you…" Kissing the relieved girl by the cheek, "I am glad that you are not hurt, angel… in body, heart or soul…"

The humanoid girl nodded, "Though the circumstances are odd, so am I… so am I…"

~*~*~*~

The string hummed a melody like no other, the silent note playing for the audience of one. Wood and feather whispered past its taut length, the slightest contact changing the quiescent harmony played by an expert hand—

"You might want to keep _both_ eyes open, ol'chap…"

His moment of flawless orchestration was shattered, the voice of his rival startling him past the murmurings of morning. The arrow escaped his bow, whistling towards the pole—

—and embedded itself into the wood, three-palm-widths away from the center…

He growled, first at the wasted shot, then at his one-time comrade-in-arms. "You're walking on thin-ice, _*ol'chap*_…" the more senior knight snapped, prodding the other in the chest with the horn of his bow, "What are you doing here, littlest knight…?"

The outlander grinned, glad his words had cut the other so, for his counterpart had lost his eye in a duel long forgotten. He feigned a hurt look, "Oh, please, old friend, spare me some dignity, will you?" He removed the blunt point aside with his slim fingers, "After all, we were knighted into the Brotherhood together, were we not…?"

"Indeed," the elder one conceded, thought none too readily, "However, you lacked ambition…" A smug chuckle passed his lips as he brought out another arrow from his personal quiver, "Which was probably the sole reason for my being 3 ranks above you now…"

"Phsaw! Utter nonsense…" the newcomer argued, though his voice betrayed the miff hidden behind his mask of cocky indifference, "But worry not, good lad – I feel something big's going to happen in my life…"

The Royal Knight let fly his trusted shaft, sending it towards its goal. This time, the gracile rod pierced its target true, landing precisely at the axis of colored circles. He allowed himself a small smile of achievement before turning to his former companion, "And pray tell, what and when is this grand event to unfold…?"

A smirk lit the other's eyes with dark fire, "Oh, you'll know when it happens… when it happens…"

Rolling his eyes, the gray-feathered man muttered with slight scorn underlying his tone, "Why do I even waste my time wit—"

"Sir…!!" a young messenger bounded into the practice fields, running towards the seasoned warrior packing his things, "Sir, the King requests your presence in the court. Something ado with escorting the neo-Queen to the city bounds…!!"

"Her Majesty…?" both knights of unequal standing exclaimed, though it was the higher ranked one that schooled his surprise first, "Tell His Majesty I will come at once…"

"Sir. Yes, Sir…"

"So, the Master's favorite Knight'll get to play bodyguard to the new Mistress…" a sneer sounded as the youth disappeared to deliver the communication. The one-eyed swordsman hissed, barely biting back a sharp word, "Be careful what you say, _friend_… If the King should discover you speaking of his beloved with that smug manner of yours, I might _just _let him vent his frustrations on you…" Adjusting his uniform and saber just so, he huffed and stormed past the insulted falcon, "Remember, we now fight for King, Queen and country…"

The amber-colored avian bore his rival's acidic words with much controlled spite. Then again, his mind reminded, his future was secure, and soon, his old rival would be no more. For he had struck a deal with the devil, and all he had to do now, was to wait for his due to come into fruition… Watching the retreating back, he suddenly grinned maliciously, "Oh *yes*… For King, _Queen_, and country…"

~*~*~*~

His orders were to escort the foreign Princess to see her new city and countryside, to acquaint herself with her fair milieu. He heard his Sister-in-arms would join him too, for her duty placed her closest to the Galaxian Royal blood. Thinking it would do better to check on her in the armory instead of waiting idly in the hall, he marched himself to the weapons store without preamble…

The air in the room was heavy with the smell of precious metal and polished wood. He peered past the shelves adorned by rows upon rows of silent soldiers, ready for battle, searching for his companion-of-the-day. His throat would've formed her name, had it not constricted when his eye laid upon another…

Her form was plain, small-built and petite. Clad in a simple leather cuirass, topped by a light-weight armor consisting of a modest chestplate and a single shoulder-guard, she looked the picture of inexperience. Seeing her trying on the many different standardized helmets, he guessed she was a new recruit, probably one of the handful of privileged Puckworld women recently knighted into the Brotherhood. 

"Might I be of an assistanc—" his voice echoed within their quiet surrounds, startling her that she was no longer alone. Almost instinctively, her hand flew to draw the elegant sword tied to her belt, the metal singing as it left its sheath. 

His eyes recognized the uncovered weapon, and he immediately reacted. His opposition's sword had intricate patterns carved into its blade, a design unique only to the Galaxian swords he had been introduced to recently. And judging from the woven gold-and-silver threads swathing the hilt, there was little doubt that this was the arm fit for Royalty. Had this woman stolen the Royal Protector Sword without their knowledge…? Or worst, had she harmed the newly crowned Royal Consort…?

He lunged for her, and she ducked, kicking at his legs and leaping lithely backwards. His clumsiness made him growl, diving viciously towards the agile figure that had made him fall, "Stay still, you fiend. How came you Her Majesty's sword…?" 

His adversary lowered her sword-arm, a low chuckle bubbling from within her. He misread her seemingly innocent laughter, renewed anger fueling his next attack. The giggle was swiftly exchanged for a gasp, blue eyes wide behind the mask's uncovered region. 

_Wait a minute – blue eyes…?!_

"Princess, get _DOWN_!!" came a commanding voice as a black boot connected with his unfortunate chest, the impact making itself known past his armor. He hissed and stumbled backwards, sword sweeping upwards, seeking defense. The clatter of steel-on-steel rang loudly within stone walls…

"Y-you…?!" the newcomer spluttered, withdrawing her blade suddenly, "Cripes…!! And here I thought you were supposed to *protect* the Princess…!!"

"Who—?!" he gave a indignant shriek, glancing up to his retreating antagonist – to find him staring into the familiar faces of his red-headed Sword Sister and the unmasked neo-Queen…

"Y-your Majesty…!!" he stammered, dropping to one knee, "I-I didn't realize…"

Tinkling laughter answered him, "Please, kind Knight, do not apologize… It was no fault of yours – I drew my sword in alarm, and you drew yours only in contrary synchronization…"

"B-but, M'Lady…!! I could've struck—"

The forgiving Queen leaned forward to grant a concluding kiss upon the elder man's brow, "All is well… but thank you, just the same…" Sensing she had overstayed her time in the weapons room, she shyly announced that she would wait for her escorts by the outside foyer…

He blinked in disbelief. _She… kissed me…?_

"Don't get any ideas…" came a scathing voice outside his consciousness. He whirled and found himself staring into the narrowed eyes of his Queen's right-hand-lady, "H-how… W-wha—You would accuse me…?!?"

She shifted her stance, a hand resting on her hip, "Oh please – wouldn't I know…? All I had to do was bat my eyes at you that night in the tavern—"

"So you *do* remember that night…!!"

She blushed, covering her mouth with her hands, "I mean, n-no…!! I-I—"

He hugged her affectionately. For once upon a time, this woman was his only confidant, his only intimate being… his only lover… She sighed, allowing him this moment, sharing the memory long past…

Then she snickered, "You know, for all your good sense and skill, you have to admit you *are* a lousy guard when it comes to a woman…"

He growled at her, "And what's that s'posed ta mean…?!"

She pushed him away and crossed her arms, her next sentence dripping with reproachful humor, "You were beaten… by a girl… a _princess_, no less…"

His cheeks blushed brightly despite his dark coloring. Grabbing his sword, he ignored her mad giggling as he strode by her, "Oh, shut up…"

~*~*~*~*~

_Aoi Akiko ramblings:_

_Akiko has decided to redo her chapters, so that FF.net shows what she herself sees on her computer. This will mean longer chapters, but (gomen ne) apologies, it would also mean a longer waiting period before Akiko posts each chapter..._

_On a separate note, Akiko wishes to say that she thinks this story will be multichaptered... as in, perhaps 10 or more... Akiko hopes this will encourage her readers as much as Akiko is steeling herself for the challenge..._

_Akiko's opinion on this first chapter... Honestly, I think it's finally coming together, despite the painful need to write names (*strangles Kei* I am going to *KILL* you...!!)(if you don't know what this means, you must've skipped the 1st page...). Anyhow, Akiko apologizes if this chapter lacks much action, because it's only the first chapter after all, and I was seeking to introduce each character and their ties to one another. If you're still a little confused, here's a recap:_

_**Wildwing** & **Duke** : King & Royal Knight; also very close friends  
**Wildwing** & **Ambrosia** : newly wedded King to Queen  
**Tanya** & **Mallory **: Royal Knight & Mage; also very close friends  
**Mallory **& **Ambrosia **: Royal Knight & Princess; also trusted companions  
**Duke **& **Falcone **: Royal Knight & Guard; one-time friends, now rivals  
**Duke **& **Mallory **: both Royal Knights; one-time lovers, now very close friends_

_Why did I make these characters relate as they do in the story...? To tell you the truth, I haven't a clue either... My fingers type what my mind dictates, ie this story had a skeletal backbone, but other than that, I'm making it up as it goes *nod*... _

_Please review on your way out...!! ^_^_


	5. Chapter 2

No. _Mighty Ducks, the animated series_ not mine.   
But _Princess Ambrosia _and story are mine ^_^

~*~*~*~*~

Chapter II

~*~*~*~*~

The sharp scent of rusted iron assaulted his senses, alerting him of another's presence entering his chambers. Straining against the dull silence that enveloped him like a dark shroud, he attempted to decipher the newcomer's identity. The footsteps that echoed within his stygian prison were not light, like those who came to feed him, if at all. Nor were they too heavy, like those who came to whip him, which was done often enough…

These were silent, backed by the eerie whistle of a tail. Either his guest belonged to one of the higher ranked officers, or—

"And how fares our _ King_ today, hmm…?" a sneer hung heavy in the air, claws digging into his injured flesh. He bit out a hoarse cry, arms tightening in his bonds. His tormentor chuckled darkly, "Ah… you are still healthy – that is good…"

"Shut… up…" he growled, though his voice was weak and cracking, barely containing the threat it was supposed to bear. It was of little consequence, for the malicious laugh only grew louder, the sickening crack of a slap his reward. 

"I would not speak with such disrespect to the one who governs your life, dear Puckworld _King_…" his enemy warned, fingering the newly formed bruise laid upon countless others, already fading to varying shifts of lightening purple and ill-matched yellow. "Then again, as of several months ago, your name was officially removed from office…"

The shackled man gave a strangled cry, "N-no… It c-can't—10 years…?" For if he was no longer to ascend his untouchable throne, it meant his kin had claimed it whence of age…

Laughter born of twisted amusement set his ears pounding, "Why, yes, dear boy… 10 beautifully long years…" A reptilian tongue flickered out past his inner ear and he cringed, "You do not know how I've waited for this day, my boy…

"For 10 years I've been building up an armada against the pathetic Kingdom you called home, waiting for the chain of command to weaken. And now, my patience has been rewarded – without you, Puckworld was already doomed… and now your stead stands as poor substitute…"

"N-never…!!" the prisoner blindly snapped his jaw. A heavy-set tail caught him in the middle, a choke bringing forth blood and bile, staining the slate beneath him. Barely a whisper, the stone his only witness, "No…"

The towering terror picked his limp captive head, "You're lucky I keep you alive, dear Puckworld _ King_, for I have uses for you yet. If I were you, I'd keep that beak shut, else I'll have it forcefully removed…" Slamming the abused head against the wall, he grinned as another crack trickled away crimson life, the broken one unconscious. Licking his claw of avian blood, he strode towards the lighted hallways leading to the towers. 

"M'Lord…?" his gaunt advisor approached, leaning heavily against his staff, awaiting orders. The Saurian Overlord nodded, "Call for the Shapeshifter…

"The time for conquest has begun…"

~*~*~*~

The tavern, though far from the palace and capitol, was bustling with activity. For the Kingdom was still celebrating their King's recent alliance with the Land Beyond where their neo-Queen had flown from. Nonetheless, the man who strode into the smoky room would do to avoid the crowd, lest he was recognized. Pulling the hood further over his eyes, he slunk into the shadows as he made his way further into the noisy establishment, his objective but one…

"You're late…" his waiting companion spat, slamming down an iron mug drowned of its contents. He smirked from under his shadowed cloak, "Ah, forgive me, m'lady… for this knight rides from distant lan—"

"Ah, shut up!!" the smaller one hissed, pointing her dagger at him as she shifted from her position, her tight bodice moving with every perfected curve. He watched her lustily, as she swung her carefully bundled violet locks over her bared shoulders, muttering expletives under her breath. Seeing him still gawking at her from where he stood, blocking most of the light leaking from the center lamp, she snarled, "Quit standing around like some good-for-nothing waste-of-space…!! I haven't been chasing away well-paying customers all night just to waste more time, fool…"

"But, m'lady…" he purred, seating himself finally and skimming his knuckles against her bared forearm, careful to avoid her fiery temper consequence of her foul mood due to his delay, "You are a lovely woman to look at, do you not know…?"

"Listen, you royal pain-in-the-a**," she growled, slapping the gloved hand away, "Don't think you sweet-talking me is going to earn you a free nigh—"

"My dear lady, what giveth you such misjudgments…?" he snorted, catching her wrist and pulling her arm towards him. Kissing the fingers under the hood, he spoke, "I apologize for making you wait, m'lady… Name your price – what shall I owe to purchase your forgiveness…?" 

She narrowed her chocolate-red eyes at him, "Well… I *have* lost half-a-night's earnings…" Licking her lips, she decided to plunder his offer, "30 pieces of gold."

"Done."

Now she smiled, letting him mark her wrist. What did she care for male domination, if she was handsomely paid in the end? Purring as she tickled him under the beak, she pulled him to her private chambers, "Follow me…"

~*~*~*~

As much as the bar below choked upon the stench of cheap ale and poisonous pipeweed, the rooms above steamed with heated passion and sinful lust. Such were the forbidden things sold to the ill-educated and weak-willed, those caught in the trade cursing their d*mned livelihood. Chances of escape from this dark world were slim, if at all – ah, if you could not break free from the weights of indulgence, then there were ways of making it work for you instead. 

Which was the keystone to the flirtatious beauty's method of earning her way from rags to riches within a few short years. She was a succubus, sapping secrets from her often drunken customers, babbling information never made for peasant ears in the whorls of unguarded desire. Guarding it carefully, she sold it to her other set of clientele seeking information. She was hardly concerned with who or what race her second set originated from, so long as they could afford her price…

On this night, the man heaving above her from the exertions of faux love-making was of both sets, telling her secrets of the castle, at the same time extracting news since his last visit. She groaned out her answers past the breathless moans that always seemed to set the men off. It was a good hour later before either of them reached sated completion…

"You have new orders," she suddenly spoke, murmuring against his sweat-slicked chest, absently tracing imaginary patterns on it, "They come from the Raptor…"

He pulled her to him and kissed her. "Ah, so the Devil calls for me at last…" he commented dryly, sitting up and bringing the warm body leaning against him upright. This was the real reason he had sought her out – besides sharing idle palace gossip, that is… "What of it, my pretty one…?" 

"You say the palace is in mild turmoil, due to the King and neo-Queen's settling into their roles…" she detangled herself from his embrace and threw the thin coverlets hiding their dirty secret beneath its ash-gray expanse. Throwing him a scroll, she began to dress. "Then this may be a good time for you to act. The cold bastard wants the King dead…"

"Oh…? I thought he had wanted him alive to be his puppet…" the knight growled, swinging himself off the thin mattress to gather his things, "Heh, the things I do for money…"

She sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Quite so… but think," she smirked, her eyes reflecting the thin beams of moonlight streaming past the poor excuse for drapes at the windows, "_Our_ lives would be so much sweeter afterwards, eh…?"

He turned to her and mirrored her grin, claiming her mouth one last time, "So true, so true… my beloved…"

~*~*~*~

"How fares the construction of the new West Wall, my faithful Guard…?" the monarch questioned, staring at the looming white stone rising against the backdrop of quiescent forests. His horse shied against the dusty debris churned up by the workers hacking and toiling away the day…

"Very well, Sire…" the gray-feathered one answered, riding up to speak to his superior, his dark-colored stallion shielding the Royal's white one from the dirt. The fair mare nuzzled its companion, almost in a gesture of thanks… "They say the first tower should be ready for your inspection, first thing tomorrow morning…"

The crowned youth nodded absently, patting his trusted stead encouragingly. Shielding his eyes against the sun, he made his decision, "Good, good… I shall christen it with the Queen then…"

"How goes your time alone with her, Sire…?" the Knight whispered discreetly, leaning his head slightly towards his ruler. To this the younger one sighed, "The same as our wedding day, perhaps a little more estranged… She does not speak much to me – I am beginning to worry about her health if she continues…"

"Give it time, Sire…" the elder one advised, watching his charge staring at his wedding band once more, fingering it in an odd mixture of hope and despair, "You will grow to love her, and she you—"

"I do not doubt loving her enough, dear friend…" the King confessed, turning to view the overhanging gardens to his far right, where he had left his newly-wedded wife, "But she—I-I… do not think she will ever love me…" Sighing, he turned to his hand again, "I know this must be a most difficult time for her, but I wis—"

"There is nothing you can do, Your Majesty… Already your first hurdle has been crossed – you love her…" the one-eyed Knight spoke in calming low tones, "Her Majesty would return your feelings when she is ready… And it will be soon, I think…"

Snorting elegantly, the blueblood continued his survey of the defense tower, "How are you so sure of this, old friend…?"

"She wields a sword. Got smacked by it…" the weathered swordsman replied in mild annoyance, bringing his hand up to his temple, the memory fresh in his mind, though the wound was not. Chuckling to belie his irritation, he turned to explain, "Women who know how to take up arms are fiercely independent, but also very wise…" He cowered at the look of shock on his King's face, "Um… have I said too much…?"

"She carries a *sword*…?!" the fairer one spluttered, blinking in disbelief, before the hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, "And _smacked_ _*YOU*_ with it…?!?!"

The darker man groaned, "Aye, aye… Ya don't have ta rub it in…"

"Stars, even *_I_* can't get close enough to you to do that…" the Royal one gave a small sigh, "But you're right… I supposed I'm just being impatient…" Turning to clap the leader of the Brotherhood on the shoulder, he gave a genuine smile, "Thank you, my friend…"

Smiling again, the Royal Guard bowed, "Any time, Your Majesty…"

~*~*~*~

"_Make it look like an accident_, he says… _Be discreet, or I'll kill you myself_, he says…" the shadow grumbled as he sought the cover of darkness to shield his presence. Pulling out the scroll he had been given a few days prior, he muttered the Spell of Misfortune scribed inside with a foreign tongue, praying to all the senile gods above and beyond that the spell would not backlash on him. Waiting a while to see if he would disintegrate into a pile of ashes or shrivel up into some kind of animal or another, he breathed a sigh of relief that he was still safe. Tapping the parchment with a coin bearing the face of his monarch, he whispered the King's name. The coin melted in his hands and he dropped it, squeaking silently as he watched the metallic pool disappear into the amber paper, as if absorbed into its thin membranous skin. A heartbeat later, the whole manuscript was eaten by a flash of blue fire, silver ash infused into the air surround him, scattered by the winds…

He broke from his frozen shock, chiding himself for being a coward. His task done, he crept away from the site to demand payment for his deed…

~*~*~*~

"And finally, Your Majesty – the tower itself…" the eager man under His Majesty's employment gestured with a proud hand, ushering his esteemed guest through the wide arched portals leading to the skies. The view was breathtaking, the lush forests surrounding the peaceful capitol unfurling themselves before their eyes. But more importantly, it gave an unobstructed assessment of the western landscape…

"Where I lost my brother and cousin in one night…" the white-feathered man mumbled, his eyes turning sorrowful as he stared into the verdant wood where his kin had been last reported before they had disappeared, 10 dreary years ago…

"Your Majesty…?" his Royal Knight questioned, shaking him out of his reverie. 

"I'm alright…"

The foreman rambled on and on about the construction, most of which the party knew beforehand. The ruling Puckworlder turned to instead to watch his recent bride, eyes turned to the majestic skies, a look of longing evident in her equally blue pupils. A breeze blew against her, and she closed her eyes to the caress of the wind. He smiled. _Yes, I will wait for her – after all, she *is* worth waiting for…_

Meanwhile, the blond-haired Sorceress was at ill-ease, touching every alternate stone or so to validate her feelings. The giant pieces felt hot and cold, prickling at her senses at odd intervals. _Strange magic had been cast here_, she thought to herself, studying the absent cracks, _but I cannot understand its source or location of origin, nor its purpose… Why—?_

The gathered courtiers began to move towards the bridge connecting the twin defense spires. Nonetheless, for fear of calamity, she instinctively lagged behind, her spell-book clutched tighter to her chest… 

The Royal Entourage was the last to follow, for the Royal Knight was engaged in a heated debate about the strength and resistance the Wall could withstand if ever under attack. The King seemed disinterested, wandering alone towards the end of the wall…

It was then when the Magus felt the pull of Dark Powers working at its fullest capacity, her mind's eye exploding with a myriad of color. She whirled to warn her distant monarch, "_YOUR MAJESTY, LOOK OU—_"

Her warning came too late, as the youth watched with horror the stone beneath his hands and feet crumbling away into sand, quicker than thought. "What the—"

The faithful magician's alarmed cry brought the immediate attention of His Majesty's attendants – especially his Royal Bodyguard. "_*SIRE*!!_"

It was a split-second decision. Further down the wall, two women turned to one another and begged the other for strength. Then they reacted, sprinting down the white path towards their falling King…

"_*M'LADY*!!_" called the gray-feathered swordsman, lunging for the blur of royal blue and white sprinting before him. His Sword Sister did the unthinkable – she slammed into him and pushed him to the ground, an arm against the bulge of his throat, "Let her go…"

"B-but she'll kill hersel—" 

He stared after the lithe figurine leaping off the broken ledge, executing a perfect dive after her King. But what had caught everyone's attention was not her suicidal attempt in following their monarch plunging to his death—

"Great Mother of Ducks…"

Gleaming white reflected the crystal sunlight in scattered tatters…

The Lady Ambrosia had wings. 

~*~*~*~

_"You cannot take her – she is *MY* DAUGHTER!!" screamed the anguished mother, holding the silent child to her breast. Behind the small mahogany-crowned child lay evidence to their argument – a pair of snow-white wings twice the young one's height, folded haphazardly and dragging on the floor…_

_"She is a curse to the Royal line…!!" the distressed father accused, yanking on the additional appendages sprouting from what-used-to-be his youngest offspring. The girl cried out sharply at the harshness of his actions, the feathered limbs jerking upwards by its own accord with enough force to send him reeling. He hissed with unbridled fury – "See how she deals with her own *FATHER*…?!?! Who would love this accursed monster now…?! How shall I find the wretched thing a *HUSBAND*?!?!"_

_"She's *NOT* a wretched THING!!" the protective mother countered, snatching the wings and anchoring them down. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she stroked the planes of purest white, of softest down, "Heed not your father, dearest one… Mama shall find you someone that'll understand… He will understand…"_

~*~*~*~

The fated fall was labeled as an assassination attempt on His Majesty's life, his Royal Guard pouncing on the task of tracing suspects while his Mage unlocked the secret to the spell. Nonetheless, the monarch would not care for either, as there were more important things in his mind to comprehend and accept…

He fingered the torn material that hung at the back of her dress, her majestic magnificence long since withdrawn, inexorably pulled into her porcelain back. His mind kept returning to the point in time when she had set his boots upon solid ground…

_"Please believe…" _she had begged, her voice raw with pleading, _"Please understand…"_

Her words repeated itself in his head as the scene ended with exhaustion claiming her feverish body, him catching his beloved before she could fall, his shaky legs folding under him. The next thing he knew, his guards had ushered him here, to his inner sanctum, his loyal Knight's most trusted men and his Mage's strongest shields granting him safe haven…

_Why are you so afraid, my love…?_ he asked as he traced the unblemished skin peering from the two long rents on either side of her spine, _Why would I not believe you…? Not understand you…?_

"Her family say she is cursed…" a quiet voice startled him as soft footfalls told of the approach of another. Her cherry-braided bodyguard came forward and knelt before him, "They rejected her for these, calling her an _abomination_. She is afraid you will reject her too, now that you know…"

"What do you know of this? Speak truthfully…" he commanded, though without malice. The Female Guard nodded in compliance, "I hear and obey, my liege…

"They say that _Wings are the craft of Demons_, thus labeling Her Majesty a _Demonic childling_. Her people know nothing of this – but her family, barring her late Mother, shuns her presence most obviously. I believe this has led to her quiet spirit…

"She was the first Princess to have her marriage arranged, long before her sisters were of age. Her Mother turned to Puckworld due to our very likeness to the Princess. She believed we would accept this unwanted curse… She believed we would understand—"

"How can such beauty be called a _curse_…?" the King whispered, eyes flickering towards the trail of feathers littered around the bed, "How could her family – her own flesh and blood – be so cruel…?"

"You do not comprehend this new discovery in all its entirety, my liege…" the emerald-eyed one informed, picking a shaft from the floor. She held it against her bared forearm, "A simple feather may caress one's own with the gentlest of touches… but fueled by anger—" she closed her eyes and concentrated. The white in her hands shone brightly and glowed bright and hot, silver threads spreading itself amongst the fibers. She removed the shaft and slashed it blindly past her sacrificial limb—

_Drip, drop._

"Gods of the sky…" he gasped. 

Three drops of brightest red marred the perfection of slate and stone. 

"You see, this is the true curse of her wings…" the Knight elucidated, pressing against her self-inflicted wound. "You hold in your hands the most beautiful Angel to ever grace mortal eyes… but one false move against her whence her appendages are spread, and she becomes the most dangerous _living weapons_ set amongst men…"

He turned back to the barely breathing sylph-like nymph in his bed, "Stars…"

Her Guard immediately felt certain unease wash over them like a tangible tide, "Sire… Please do not dismis—"

"Whoever suggested dismissal…?!" the mane declared sharply, glaring at his subject, "I would not disgrace her so openly…!!"

"My apologies, my liege…" the armored woman amended, dropping her head, "I only beg on behalf of my Lady that should you have any misgivings of keeping the Lady Ambrosia, it stands on no valid ground. I have much faith my Lady cannot hold enough emotion to cut you or bring shame to you Name…"

"Leave us…" he requested tiredly, but with little emotion, stroking a stray lock of mahogany across his wife's pale cheek. "I have much to think about…"

"As you wish, Your Majesty…" the woman acknowledged, backing towards the ornate doors. A moment before leaving, she reasoned in a beseeching tone, "She is a creature born to love, Your Majesty, and she will learn to love you. If only you overlook this blatant flaw and allow her … 

"Believe her, Your Majesty. Understand…"

The doors clicked lock behind her, and he wept in confused despair…

~*~*~*~

She woke suddenly at the appearance of the first twilight star, tearing herself from an invisible nightmare. He immediately came to her side, holding her by her shoulders. Nevertheless, when her eyes gazed upon his shining countenance reflected by the light of the eve, the terror of no nightmare could compare…

A strangled yelp escaped her throat as she curled unto herself, backing away in fear, shrinking from his grasp. He inched closer, only for her to distance herself by unequal measure, ending against the unyielding bed-frame.

"P-please…" a desperate plea sounded against the descending night, "You m-mustn't look at me, my L-lord…"

"You are my wife. I shall do as I am able…" came the response, colder than the ice that haunted the most frightening winters. Yet, the hands on her tensed shoulders loosened with his next command, "Face me, please…?"

Wide pools of purest sapphire shone against darkest wine-mahogany, deepest swirls of violet blending with one another. Whilst one trembled with much fear, the other masqued all emotion with hardened features of utmost authority. 

"Let me see your wings," the demand was firm and unquestionable, almost testing her faithfulness to obey. The eyes she was relying upon for warmth and kindness was lost to her, her doubts resurfacing…

"Y-yes, my L-lord…" 

Facing away, cheeks ablaze with shameful guilt for bearing the traits of a _Demon_, the silken halo of feathers slid soundlessly around them, of tender embrace. Loosened shafts danced in the air, borne upon the whispers of the wind, seeking acceptance… 

_And acceptance you shall have…_ he breathed, his cold façade cracking at the drunken lines of silver drawn at the edge of her delicate jaw.

His gentle hand traced the pattern of arrangement on one beckoning appendage of flight. Allowing awe to color his words, he whispered, "Beautiful…"

"S-sire…??!"

Tracing the underside of one glassy eye, he brushed away the saltwater screen that was the source of her marred beauty, "Shh… Even tears cannot steal away your beauty, my love…"

"B-but…"

He brought himself close to her and kissed away the wet trail upon her pale cheek, "Hush… say no more, for there is nothing you can say that will change my mind…" Rubbing a cheek against her angelic gift, he assured her, "Your wings are beautiful… as are you… I cannot lie to you, my love…"

"The c-curse—"

"—is of no importance to me…" he finished for her, setting his finger against her lips, "You now carry my Name. Your place is by my side. _Our _Kingdom does not believe in such foolishness…" Proving his sincere confession, he sealed his promise with a kiss to wing at its first juncture, "I have not believed, but I can try… I cannot pretend to understand, but I can learn… For you, to brave the knives that bar us from each other is worth the blood shed and sheets stained – I accept you, beloved… 

"I love you…

"And let no one tell you otherwise…"

And the stars sang in harmony as the soul in most need of healing hath finally found her healer…

~*~*~*~

Another armored puppet crashed against the stone wall, shattering upon impact, the dark magick woven into its seams devoured by the dark stone. The hunched figure watching this scene safely from his position beside the raised throne tapped the ground to retrieve the dissipated energy, to store for future use…

"What explanation does that _RAT_ give, saying he has _*FAILED*_ me…?!?!" the crimson-crested leader roared, his temper drawing an unholy aura around his crown, "So, the Puckworld King is _alive *YET*_?!?!?"

The small reptilian kneeling before him cowered into himself, wishing for all his talents as a Shapeshifter, he could meld and disappear into the marbled surface underfoot. Reminding himself that he deserved none of this as a messenger, he squeaked, "It is what the Knight has told the One in the whorehouse, my liege…" Peering out of his robes, he beseeched, almost as his last effort to displace the reproach off his person, "He _*did*_ add something that might interest you, my liege…"

"_*SPEAK*!!_"

"The Knight reports that the King has a new point of focus…" the child-like servant announced, quickly taking the likeness of the foreign Royal blood, emerald detail down to the last singular eyelash. Batting _hir_ eyes timidly, he greatly exaggerated his newfound femininity, "Palace staff say that the King would do anything for his neo-Queen…"

"I have read this in the stars, m'lord – at present, she is His Majesty's greatest weakness…" added the hollow voice of his advisor, turning to the Dragonling brooding quietly in his seat, "Suppose we manipulate this to our advantage…?"

A malicious smile painted itself upon the Overlord's snout, "Why yes… A most excellent idea, indeed… And better yet, perhaps I would be able to kill two _*birds*_ with one stone, by securing myself a mate…"

All color drained from the disguised lady as he ceased prancing around the hall, his antics frozen in mid-step. Morphing into himself with the blink of an eye, he gulped, "S-sire…?"

"Call for the pathetic knight once more…!!" bellowed the giant, his commanding hand flung out as he gave his orders. Sinking into the comfort of his cushions, he steepled his claws under his chin as a new order forged itself from the depths of his cunning mind, "Tell him he shall have new orders to carry out…"

Staring at the floating orbs of sight once belonging to blueblood, he grinned, "Soon, very soon… Puckworld will be _MINE_…!!"

~*~*~*~*~

_Aoi Akiko ramblings:_

_Akiko is happy...!! Because Akiko has finished her exams and summer vacation is here...!! Yay *akiko dances around her pootie-chan (baby aka her laptop)*!!_

_*ahem* Akiko begs the forgiveness of many for the rather drawn-out waiting period since her last update. Many, many things have happened, and personally, Akiko is glad that they're finally out of the way... Now, Akiko can finally focus more, more, more on her ficcies...!!_

_About the story...  
Virtual lollipops to those who guessed the first scene (dungeon) between ** Canard **and **Dragaunus**, and the next 2 scenes (tavern) between ** Falcone** and **Lucretia**. Initially, **Lucretia **never entered my list of characters, but I needed a strong personality not used to support ** Falcone**'s role... *sniff* _

_If you're asking why on *PUCKWORLD* I'm putting that little bit about Ambrosia having wings and all, it's really a small backdrop of things to come. For the record, I did not conveniently *make* all these details up __– they were in the original character design of her original character. _ _Um, please do not sue...?_

_I admit, the whole story seems a little _ cliché at times (especially with the **Dragaunus**-I-want-to-take-over-Puckworld-part), but I assure you, there will be some *twists* coming up soon. Stay tuned, minna (everyone)...!!

_Thankies: Silver Elf Child, Becks Michaels... ^_^ Arigato, ganbatte yo!!_


	6. Chapter 3

No. _Mighty Ducks, the animated series_ not mine.   
But _Princess Ambrosia _and story are mine ^_^

~*~*~*~*~

Chapter III

~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Few words were exchanged between them, their meeting swift and silent. A heartbeat later, the avian leapt onto his steed and sped into the night, leaving the lizard behind to choke upon dust disturbed with unrest…

  
~*~*~*~

His mount reared up without warning, kicking at an invisible barrier. The rider hissed in annoyance and brought his mighty equine down, "What the deuc—"

"What bring ye to these parts of the wood at this unholy hour, dearest knight…?" came a young voice upon the whispers of shadows, echoing around the irritated swordsman. "And so alone besides…?"

"How should my riding this night be any business of yours?!" the angered horseman retorted, eyes darting past the leaves of the trees surrounding him, sword drawn as his warning against his unseen adversary, "Who shall you be…? Show yourself…!!"

Youthful laughter masking its owner's position blanketed the confines around the confused swordsman. "O ye of little intelligence… Have you no idea whose presence you stand before…? Surely you do not make demands of the _*Prince* of Thieves_…?"

"_Prince of Thieves_…? Ha – do not make me laugh…" the armored man mocked the innocent lilt his ears discerned, "If one so young can be a _Prince_ in these parts, then I of the Royal House can be crowne—"

There was no sound, only movement. Within the span of a single heartbeat, the ghost of a shadow swooped down from above him, groped past his cape and catapulted itself into the sanctuary of the trees. The leaves only rustled quietly as if to sweep away all evidence of the attack if at all…

"Quite a collection you keep beneath your finery, dearest knight…" the voice of his assailant commented, again seemingly emanating from all directions. Simultaneously, the palace guard made inventory of what had been stolen, hands patting his robes…

"Return what is mine before I cut your throa—"

"Think you the _Prince of Thieves _would be alone, dearest knight…?" the wind could not hide the laugh behind the smiling tone. A moment later, a dozen candles were lit, their positions strategic enough to shadow the hooded silhouettes of a band of bandits hiding in the trees, arrows drawn towards him. A sigh, "How say you I show mercy and spare you your life, dearest knight…?"

Burning with incredulity, the sword-bearer could only quake with shamed defeat. Slamming his blade home, he snarled to the night with listening ears, "Beware, O Prince of Tasteless Humor, enjoy my fine things while you can – for when I return, I shall slaughter all of you yet…!!" Yanking at the reins, the man fled into the night, heart and hide intact, even if lost wit and wealth… Behind him, the clearing shook with amusement…

Glancing at his prize – the Royal Guard's Medallion of Honor – the bandit teen chuckled as he snuffed the last of his candles. Tugging at the bows of his _companions _of the night, he disarmed them all and pushed them back into the hollow of the trees hiding their identities.

"Candles and puppets in the dark," he muttered as he descended the trees, his legs automatically walking him homeward. Bouncing the small bag of gold between his hands, he grinned, "Gets them every time…"

  
~*~*~*~

Far away and high above a sleeping city, two souls hidden from the eyes of most were about to intertwine with one another for better or worst…

He stood behind her and rested both hand on her shoulders, slowly sliding himself downwards to her elbows. She drew a sharp breath, but did not withdraw. He took the opportunity to press his luck, slowly encircling her waist, bringing her closer to himself. She turned her head away from him, the slightest of protests. He succumbed to the temptation of her exposed neck, lips closing onto her skin, sucking gently. She whimpered, her fingers tightening against his hand. He either heeded her not, or heard her not, for he did not stop, marking her as his where no dress could cover…

"P-please, M'Lord…" she stammered.

"My advisors grow impatient, dearest one…" he confessed huskily, traveling higher to nibble on a lobe, "I know not how to appease them…" He cradled her against him, his gesture suggestive. 

She squirmed, "B-but… I am not… not yet r-ready…"

He sighed, halting all gentle ministrations, but did not let her go. "I am sorry… My duty to the Kingdom must precedes your comfort—"

At this, she turned to see his eyes, "Nay, M;Lord… I-I… I should be the one apologizing…" Hanging her head, she explained, "My call for you to wait has delayed our chance of i-intimacy…

"M'Lord… I-I am… unclean… at this moment…"

He immediately released his hold on her, realizing her words. She timidly stepped away from him, holding herself slightly…

Suddenly, he let out a small, uncharacteristic laugh. He took up a hand and kissed it lightly, "My Lady, you are one in a million…"

Her eyes turned upwards, innocent blue searching, "You are not… o-of-fended, M'Lord…?" Staring at their intertwined fingers, she frowned, "M-men dare not s-speak to an unclean w-woman… much less t-touch her…"

"I am your husband, beloved… Your feminine cycle shall be something I should grow accustom to, hmm…?" Bridging the gap between them, he sighed, "Though, beloved, you cannot make me wait forever… Forgive me, but my advisors press us to procure an heir—" he pressed against her belly, making her blush, "I did not lie to say they grow impatient…"

Sensing her unease, he decided to withdraw. Smiling, he teased, "Furthermore, the chaise grows uncomfortable…"

"Y-yes, I have noticed… Your gait tells of a sore back and a painful neck…" her words were light, hiding the smile unseen on her lips. It was only later when she realized the implication of her words, "D-does… does this mean you wish to s-share the b-bed, S-sire…?"

Stroking a cheek, he gave his answer, "It is still your decision, dear Heart…"

"And should I say _yes_…?"

He frowned, "I would ask if you are confident with your answer… I cannot promise I will not touc—"

She shook her head, "I cannot deny you… `tis your r-right—"

"But I cannot forc—"

"I would like you to…" she breathed, shy eyes staring past the thick curtain veiling her blushing masque. 

He studied her, eyes narrowing. These last words from her lips were not coerced from her throat, nor said with contempt… To his surprise, her voice seemed so resolute… so sure…

"I ask you one last time, Ambrosia – you are absolutely—"

"Yes."

He said nothing. Instead, he turned away from her and melded with the shadows of the bedroom, leaving her to the mercy of the winds. She watched him as his warmth departed, silent and frighteningly calm. Shivering with the fear her sudden decision might have wrought, she followed only lonely moments after…

Once her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she pierced the darkness in search for her betrothed – only to find him on the bed, dressed lightly for sleep. She gasped softly, rooted to the floor. Using the same words issued on their first night together in this room, he beckoned her, "Come to me, my Queen… _Let us prepare for bed_…"

Shakily, the faithful bride did as she was told, obeying his command till she was clad only in a semi-transparent underdress, luminescent in the lunar glow. Gingerly, she climbed into her marriage bed, tentatively approaching its other occupant. Though the room was dark, she could sense his smile…

"I cannot bed you, my love… not when you are like this…" his rich voice assured, gently guiding her in his arms, her crown rested on his chest. Caressing a cheek as an arm encircled her waist, he soothed, "Please… only lie quietly beside me…"

He felt her heart beat furiously against his own, so afraid was she. Yet… yet… though there were a million reasons for her to flee, she stayed, choosing to trust him as she closed her eyes, curling against his side. With every leaving breath, her apprehension faded, the pulsating fear ebbed… 

Granting her a singular kiss on her peaceful brow, he smiled as he allowed himself to spiral into Morpheus' realm, his last though echoing, _Finally, beloved… I have won you over…_

  
~*~*~*~

The youth's return to his band was heralded with much small celebration, many jumping to greet him after his long absence. The clamor drew the attention of their bandit leader, the weathered adult stepping past the flaps of his tent to discern the reason behind the joyous hubbub…

"Father…!!" a child's voice caught his ears as small running footsteps approached him. The elder broke into a wide smile and swung his dark-haired daughter into the air by her waist, a waterfall of giggles its result. Tickling the small bundle under her beak, he enquired, "What is it, little one…? What is the cause for such sudden excitement…"

"The Trickste—I mean, brother has returned, father…!!" the girl informed as she bounced in his embrace, pointing away from the tent to where her people had gathered. "Look, look…!! Brother swiped this pretty necklace for me…!!" she brought of the golden medallion to her paternal parent's eyes. 

Eyeing the glinting prize, the tall one gasped, "Hand that over to me, my angel…" Setting the young one on the ground, he gestured to her, "Now, let us find that brother a'yours…"

"Hurry, father…!!"

The crowd parted as the imposing figure of their leader strode past them, his eyes set upon the golden-haired boy at its axis. The blond turned to acknowledge his elder's nearing, "Father…"

The taller male held out the circle bearing the Royal Crest for the world to view and pass judgment… 

"You took on a member of the Royal House…?" the tone behind his voice was devoid of emotion, eyes still and darkening. 

"Yes, father…" the boy confessed, gulping. "Was that wrong to do so, father…?"

"Wrong…? _Wrong_…?!" the darker-clad elder repeated calmly, "What you did was more than wrong…!!" 

The boy cringed, fearing disapproval—

—only to be slammed into his proud father's chest, enveloped in a powerful embrace. 

"My son, it was _ *brilliant*_…!!" the beaming man crowed, disengaging contact from the stunned boy as the gathering erupted into cheers once more. "Sending you out alone to prove your place amongst us, thinking that you'll rob a passing carriage of some pompous old courtier at best – you prove your worth and more by besting a _ *ROYAL* GUARD_…!!" Examining the intricately patterned emblem, he weighed it tentatively in his hand, "My word, I wonder how much one of these discs are worth…??!"

The youngest amongst them tugged at the boy's tunic, wanting to be carried upon his lithe shoulders. Cheerfully, the blue-eyed youth complied, swinging the small girl above the mass of people preparing to feast with an even greater cause at his accomplishment…

"Brother, brother, was it hard…?" the lass questioned, peering over his head to seek his face. As the family unit left the bustling community, homeward bound, he shook his head and replied, "It was at first, but you forget your brother's a cunning little _ *genius*_…!!"

"Haha…" the father commented dryly as he parted the flaps leading to their makeshift home, "Say that anymore times and your pride twould be your downfall…"

"Nuh-uh…!!" the girl protested against her parent as she was lifted from her perch, her brother sprawled himself onto a pile of skins in mock exhaustion, "Brother would never lose. He'll take on another Royal Guard, just for the sake of us – right, brother…?"

Sitting up and grinning, the boy's eye held a spark of determination, "Nay. Now that I've proven I can slip myself past a Royal Guard, I'm aiming for bigger game…!!" 

The father rolled his eyes at the scene as his wife came by him to be held, their shared attention resting upon their beloved children. Shaking his head, he sighed absently, "He canna have gotten so big an ego from me – I swear he's adopted, through and through…" 

The auburn-crowned woman shifted, and he looked down. Seeing the familiar question in her eyes, he soothed her silently, his arms tightening reassuringly. "Nay, of course he is…

"But from this day forth, his blood is of our house, and that is that, through and through…"

  
~*~*~*~

"You canna hide in your chambers all day, dear friend…" came the exasperated tone wafting past the doors as a few maids strained to hear, pressing themselves against the oaken leaves leading to the spell-room. A mist of silver-and-violet dust clouded their feet, but they fretted not. Random palace staff changing into many a furry forest creatures they had seen before – the greatest Swords Sister of the Brotherhood attempting to drag the reserved Magick Mistress to the morning bazaar they had not…

"But I have so much work to do still…!!" came the weak protest followed by a series of crashes and thumps (and inevitably, more mists of silver-and-violet…) made the girls giggle and winced alternatingly. "Look you – security wards, healing sticks, and—hey…!! So that's where my wand disappeared to…!!"

"I am *not* about to let you waste your well-earned holiday by lounging around more books, dear heart…!! The palace has been well taken care off – you've been conjuring up security wards for more than three days already…!!" What sounded like books tumbling off the shelves graced their ears. "And the Queen has recovered well – besides, what are the palace healers for…?!?!" An explosion, a clang of metal upon metal, a squawk from the spellmistress' faithful owl. "And speaking of that wand…"

The doors burst open, giving the maids a fright, as a blur of red and brown flying away from the doors, "… race you to the stables, my friend…!!"

The mage stared at her disappearing companion with a jaw hanging slightly comically, before snapping from her daze as eight little faces peered past her open doorway. 

"Ack, *_no_*…!!" the frantic magician tore after her comrade, mauve-violet robes trailing, "Come back here with my wand, you little thief…!!"

The awestruck servants stared at one another for a moment or two, a silent agreement forged. Gingerly, they gathered their things and parted company, each to their own chores…

Out of the blue, the King wondered why laughter echoed past the halls that strange day…

  
~*~*~*~

"A summon to patrol the streets…?" the gray one grumbled, glaring down at the parchment in his hand. Hissing vehemently as he crumpled the amber piece of paper in his hand and threw it into the fire with disgust, "Is this not a guard's errand, not mine…?"

"Indeed…" his comrade agreed most whole-heartedly, bringing the other's sword-belt for him, "But until I find my emblem again, I cannot go into the city beyond the palace walls – canna you take my place this once while I seek to have my medallion reforged…? It is only this one time, I promise…"

"A fool you are to lose your emblem…!!" the elder spat, snatching his offered belt in reluctance, "I warn you, _ol'chap _– only this once…!!"

"I would repay your kindness duly…" the falcon-like avian replied, bowing as the Royal Knight strode past him, ignoring his pledges. 

A sad mistake, as the sincerity faded from those eyes and entered malevolent intent, "Hook, line and sinker…"

  
~*~*~*~

"My companions are where, you say…?" the neo-Queen questioned quietly, narrowing her eyes in incomprehension. Around her small figure, her handmaidens scurried to make perfect her attire to the last detail…

"Your Personal Guard left with the Mage into the city upon an errand, and His Majesty's right-hand-man is on patrol…" the knight kneeling before her repeated, his head bowed low. "I have been sent to take their place to protect you during your ride…"

"I was not informed of such sudden change of plans…" the slight woman replied, her head hanging with mild disappointment – she had grown to love her riding companions though they were but her protectors, her position leaving little chance of pursuing genuine friendship. Sighing, she nodded, "Very well… You shall be my guide for the afternoon, then…?"

"I am honored to be of service to you…" the knight hid a smile capable of sending demons themselves scattering for safety, "… *_M'Lady_*…"

  
~*~*~*~

Her daily explorations of the castle grounds were tiresome, for she had never ridden before she had been brought to this quaint country… It was her resolve to please her husband by learning of his Kingdom independently (albeit borrowing aid from his most loyal subjects) that led her upon this strange excursion by horseback everyday, painting a mental image of the gardens and the woods so close to the palace. 

Resting by the waterfall she had passed the day before, she waited patiently for her riding chaperone to return from his reconnaissance. As she had done so since her personal guard had taught her how, she smiled as she withdrew her Protector Blade and began polishing its gleaming length, whispering the prayers of her ancestors…

Her personal guard… 

The cherry-braided woman was sent to enter the Kingdom's service with a sharp tongue and a sharper sword, besting the bravest of her father's knights as proof of her abilities to guard one so precious to the Kingdom (if not her closest family). However, it came as a surprising lesson to the temperamental foreigner that her charge was very much her direct opposite – reserved where she was sociable, quiet where she was rambunctious, naïve where she was exposed. It made both women feel rather awkward towards the other…

Strange circumstances led the quiescent princess to her bodyguard one night following a frightful dream, only to find the elder female polishing her few chosen weapons. Curiosity replaced fear as she carefully drew forward, enchanted by the gleaming steel – for though she had seen many in her lifetime, the youngest Princess was forbidden to wield one, as punishment for her tainted heritage…

The straightforward aide saw little reason behind the Royal command, and as their little secret, allowed the smaller one hold her most precious arm. One night led to two, then twelve, and before long, the lunar rotation saw them through simple sword-handling to actual swordplay… And all this was done without the knowledge of any another, the invaluable clandestine activity bonding two souls tighter than the bonds of blood and water…

His footsteps were silent, or had she been so lost in thought to be ill-prepared…? Either way, the blade to her throat and arm restraining her limbs held her captive, forcing her wandering mind to the present. The twisted version of a familiar voice hissed, "Stand up, woman…"

Though timid in nature, her Personal Guard and dearest confidant had not spent countless afternoons training her amidst a hidden wood for naught. Her enemy had expected a yielding woman weak with all the comforts of royal opulence, thus the element of surprise was her advantage as she drove her scabbard into his unguarded midsection whilst she whirl around, her Protector Sword drawn and ready…

She had been prepared to challenge an unknown adversary. However, the face of her recent attacker let a gasp escape her lips, "It canna—" 

The Royal Guard growled from where he had fallen, stormy eyes clouded with distaste. "So _sorry_ to have kept you waiting, _*M'Lady*_," his voice dripped with the most potent acid as he stood, snapping his fingers. Mechanical puppets entered the clearing, each a crossbow aimed to strike. The avian guardian brushed at his slightly sullied garments, "But as you can see, I ran into some old _friends_…"

Though knowing her rights to guard her pride, one knew when she was overpowered. She glared disbelievingly at her so-called guide and chaperone, "So, you would betray your own Queen and country…?!"

He grinned, bouncing a small sack in his hand. "For the right amount of gold…? Yes…" Shrugging in nonchalance, he continued, "After all, there are bigger fish to fry – and you, _M'Lady_, are mere bait…"

Her eyes widened, "Goddess – you are after the King…!!"

With unknown swiftness, he brought a crossbow from under his cloak. Her scream pierced the silent forest, sending many a wild-birds taking flight… 

He stepped on her fallen sword, ignoring the crimson splattered against the hilt of Galaxian gold. Pouncing on the weakness of injury, he held her thrashing form to the ground. She spat at him, panic stifling her, yet anger sustaining her for now, "A traitor to the throne…!! Would you rather submit to the gallows for treason, forsaking all your potential's worth…?"

He laughed. A second arrow was launched into a random drone, its center of control destroyed, leaving it an inactive shell of a machine, limbs twisted haphazardly as it fell. It companions did not flinch, trained onto the blue-eyed goddess amidst the pooling blood. "And who's to say I was responsible for any of this, M'Lady…? A mechanical soldier of Saurian-make would send the King away towards the West, searching to reclaim his beloved beauty from the Land Beyond. But 'twould be a fruitless journey, his corpse to rot in a battlefield where sleeping Dragons have awakened from restless slumber, battle-ready and hungry for His Majesty's blood…"

A reluctant tear escape her eye, shed for both the man she was only beginning to love, and the man who hovered over her, his sanity lost. "My Guard, my Guard…"

She never felt the blow as his heavily armored arm came crashing against her temple, the encompassing black stealing her consciousness. He straightened his back, touching his bruised side gingerly. "Impudent woman…" he seethed. 

Turning towards the soulless warriors surrounding him, he gave a command, "Weapons down, the woman is overcome. Transport her body to the Master by the quickest route possible…" The mindless soldiers shook to attention, hulking their way through their task. As they busied themselves, the tan-feathered swordsman unsheathe a dagger and drew a thick line down his forearm. 

"Now to return to the Palace to _report_ the Queen's kidnapping…" he chuckled darkly, smearing his own blood against his cheek, "And then, one by one, my enemies would fall – my accursed rival, his spiteful wench, that hated magick… and of course, M'Lord O M'Lord…"

Watching the amber sun dip past the muted horizon, great evil flared in his eyes of burnished cinnamon, "Indeed… For _King_, _Queen_, and _country_…"

  
~*~*~*~

"Her Majesty has been _ *WHAT*_…?!?!" 

The wounded soldier who had seen the neo-Queen last winced as the attending healers nursed his sword-wounds and discolored flesh. "I regret it is true, M'Lord… M'Lady was ambushed by metal ghouls whence I encircled the grounds seeking safer paths. I came too late to aid her, quelled by numbers too many…" Hanging his head sorrowfully, the knight begged mercy, "Forgive me, M'Lord, I have failed your service…"

"I would not punish one who has done his utmost for his Lady…" the pale monarch murmured, a hand to his forehead, "But the Queen… How shall I explain her loss to the Elders…?"

He exited the infirmary into the antecedent room, his trusted bodyguard trailing behind him. "I should not have left her…" the emerald-eyed Sword Sister groaned as they approached, a fist curled in her hand, "The fault was mine to assume she would be alrigh—"

"The fault was not yours, nor anyone's to shoulder…" came the voice of the one-eyed Royal Knight, snapping his attention to her as His Majesty sank into a chair, "No one could have known of her fate, be it well or ill… Should any other have accompanied her, the endgame would have been the same – whoever our enemy may be, his plan was well formulated to nullify whatever factor might've been—"

A small knock interrupted the Knight's words as the Palace Magus stepped carefully into the circle of suffocating tension, "I-I… I have identified the crest on the a-armor brought in f-from the site of Her Majesty's d-disappearance…"

"What of it, my trusted Sorceress…?"

The violet-clad woman deposited the faceless helmet and brought out a parchment from the depths of her cloak, "M'Lord, I put before you the head of a mechanical Hunter Drone… the same made by those ostracized into the barren Outlands…" Trembling a little, she unrolled the scroll for all eyes to see. "M'Lord, Her Majesty was abducted by _ Saurian _blood…"

The smaller swordbearer shook her head furiously, "It canna be…!!" Her fellow Guard on par cursed, "How _*DARE* _they seek those of royal blood – before, the First Heir to the throne; now, Her Majesty the Queen…!!" 

The chaos that blanketed him was ignored, his eyes focused on a single point towards the West. _How dare you indeed… to steal away my brother, my cousin and my beloved…_ He could imagine his enemy's twisted smirk, jeering him to make his countermove. He growled, _Nay, I will not let you overwhelm me with this…_

His companions had noticed their Sovereign's unusual silence despite his right in this given situation. Tentatively, his right-hand-man knelt by his side and shook him in alarm, "Sire…?"

His eyes snapped open, determination aglow behind his pupils of darkest mahogany. "Assemble a crusade of the Kingdom's finest warriors… At dawn, we ride to reclaim the Jewel that has been stolen from us…"

Shocked silence followed. 

Then, an agreeing salute, a determined grin, an enthusiastic nod – "Yes, M'Lord. At once, M'Lord!!"

  
~*~*~*~

The scent of burning brimstone made her wake, her senses overpowered by its choking essence. Exhausted eyelids lifted shakily, sight blurry and painful. 

"Ah, the damsel awakens at last…" haunting velvet graced her ears, robes rustling against stone. Rising from where she had lain was a struggle, her bleeding arm a great throbbing agony. Her eyes followed sought the keeper to that voice, darkness foreboding… Its owner conceded thus, stepping away from the shadows. 

A strangled scream of terror was cut short, claws grating against her cheek. His reptilian snout leaned in, "Hush, my dear… We would not want the others aware of our little meeting, hmm…?" Eyeing her steadily, he proceeded, "If I release your jaw, I trust you will not repeat your offense…?" Without waiting for her response, he tentatively lifted his hand away from her. 

"W-who…?"

"Names are not important…" he purred, turning away from her and retreating once more into the shadows, the darkness swallowing the Vermillion Nightmare whole. "What is important is what we are to each other. I… am your Master… And you—" he pounced on her from behind, an arm securing her functional arm to her side, another cupping her head upwards, "—are my Slave…"

"Were you the One to whom I was sold…?" she spoke, straining against the restraining limbs holding her against her will. _Whatever befalls me, I will not beg _– "What would you want from me…?"

He tightened his grip, her wincing as telltale bruises began to form, purpling against her flesh, "Indirectly, you are only a tool for me to further my ambitions… However…" he nuzzled the nape of her neck, making her gasp as horror overtook her mind, "… if you like, I could always secure you a place _by my side_…"

"Away from me, monster…!!" she shrieked, twisting out of the vile demon's grasp, promising her doom. Her efforts were wasted, only landing her painfully upon her back, arms twisted into an impossible knot. Whatever hope she had fell like ash rain, vanishing into the night. 

"_Tsk_, _tsk_…" he admonished, pinning both wrists easily within the clutches of one iron-like vice, the other drawing a thin line down her uninjured arm, an angry red welt left in its wake, "Stay still and tempt me not to break your other arm, Princess… For I warn you, I would stay true to my word…"

He did not have to say it, the gleam in his eye sufficient to tell her of what he yearned of her. She shook her head violently, "You _*BEAST*_. You will not—you cannot…!! You—_mmph_!!"

His jaws snapped shut, and did not let go. 

Further down the halls, the soldiers roared with knowing laughter, the sound of tearing silk echoing into the hollow night, a prisoner's silent screams stolen upon the wings of Azrael…

  
~*~*~*~

"Eyes sharp, men…!!" their leading officer commanded with stern authority, guiding the reins of his mount steady. Nodding in satisfaction, he steered himself towards the central formation in which their most important figure was riding, alongside his private aides, "All is secure, M'Lord…"

Since ordering this entourage, the white-feathered monarch had said little. His attentive Royal Guard answered on his behalf instead, "Very good. Carry on…"

Turning to his ruler, he whispered humbly, "My liege…?"

"Tell me I am doing the right thing…" the younger man answered, staring blankly at his hand, palms upturned, reins laid over them. The voice cracked with emotion – whatever previous determination drowned by tones of despair…

The taller elder turned to study his charge. Hidden beneath the steel confines of his battle armor, the man riding astride himself looked so small. Was it only yesterday this man was a Prince, eyeing the crown that would be his destiny with tears in his eyes…? When had he grown up into this King, forced to leave his childhood behind for the betterment of his people…?

"You are doing the right thing, Your Majesty…"

"Then why do I feel so unsure…?" the frustrated man keened, fists tightening around leather, "No one has heard from the Saurian for over a decade since my cousin's vanishing, my brother's bereavement – could not our enemy have planned this all along…? What if our men ride blindly into their claws…? Would their King be blamed…? Their King be curs—"

"Hush and listen to yourself, M'Lord…!" the seasoned warrior chided gently. "Perhaps your actions were rash, bias towards the feelings of your heart. Nonetheless, we believe your reasons just… M'Lord, your men would fight _BY you_, _FOR you_…"

"I fear defeat, my friend… If they have raised a mechanical army—"

"We will find ways to prevail, my liege… by _*all*_ means possible…"

"And if Her Majesty is dead—" "Thou guard your tongue, Sire!" "—and all is for nothing…? What would happen then…?"

A pause… 

"Then we shall still fight to reclaim her body, and return her to her people's land…" A muttered prayer, "May the Guardian of Souls and Fate never cross paths to conjure such misfortune…"

The ride was silent once more, for better or worse… 

  
~*~*~*~

A young archer narrowed his eyes of deepest sapphire, squinting against the sunlight to make out his targets. Behind him, his companions conversed quietly, their whispers masked by the song of the forest.

"Twenty horses at the front, then twelve, then eight, then forty…" the blond youth reported, his bow separating the foliage accordingly, "The central eight seem to be of most importance, Maroon-capes surrounding one White…" Turning to face his company, he grinned, "And they all bear the Royal crests…"

"Royal crests…? Hot d*mn – what a day for a raid…!!"

"The treasury would be filled to brim tonight, my friends…!!"

"Hold. Something is not right…" the eldest of their group commented, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "When has so many of the Imperial Service entered our woodlands in so few months…?"

"What should it matter…?" someone argued, readying his throwing daggers as well as a swinging vine. "Our first rule has always been _loot first, questions later_!! As long as they have gold—"

"Alright, alright…" the darker man relented, though reluctant all the same. "May I not be the first to break tradition, eh…?"

"So are we gonna—"

"Sound the signal. We hit 'em hard and fast…" 

  
~*~*~*~

There was a sharp snap of a branch, sounding suspiciously unnatural. The fore-riders called for a halt, scouts sent forward to determine the cause. 

Unease prickled at the Royal Guard's senses, his single amber eye narrowing. Gesturing to his personal troop, he stepped closer towards His Majesty. "We are about to receive company…"

No sooner had the words left his beak, grey-and-green specters flew from the trees, swooping down towards undefended saddle-bags and unsuspecting pockets, making short work of those idle in their reaction. "BANDITS!!"

"Archers…!!" 

Arrows shot upwards to deter further attack, to which was returned, a hail of reed and weighted lead attacking wood-and-iron shields. The formation broke, the inner Circle drawing closer towards its axis, the First Royal Guard and his closest Brotherhood fellowship forming a protective dome surrounding the White Ruler…

A blond archer pivoted his focus from the lesser guards to the strategic star closing at the middle, arrow drawn. "Oh no, you don't… I promised myself to bag me a big one this time—"

The shields melded—

A scream.

—sadly, not quickly enough…

"PROTECT THE KING!!"

The wide-eyed youth whose projectile had embedded itself into warm flesh dropped his jaw. His nearest companion stared at him, "You shot the _*KING*_…?!?"

"Ya know… when I asked for _bigger game_, this wasn't what I expected…"  
  


~*~*~*~*~

_Aoi Akiko ramblings:_

_Akiko is terribly sorry for the long, long wait...!! Akiko realizes that explanations regarding busy schedules following Christmas, Chinese New Year and Valentine's day would not do, thus Akiko can only beg humble forgiveness, her fate left to her *gulp* fellow executioners..._

_*ahem* Ramblings on the story...  
I believe the plot is finally here, unraveling to show its true colors. Also, the rating seems to be escalating, though Akiko would try her best to keep it within accepted standards. Honestly, this isn't my best, but I am working hard to keep this together as best I am able..._

**_Nosedive_ **_finally makes his appearance as my cunning little bandit (along with his rightful pride in himself... or would that be his ego...? Pride... ego... I confuse myself which is the lesser evil...). **Grin **would probably have his debut soon...  
By obvious context, **Falcone** is my ultimate traitor, working for **Draggy**, aided by his **Hunter Drones**. Nevertheless, I realize that perhaps the drones couldn't be powered by non-existent electronics then, thusly have made them 'soulless, mechanical puppets'... probably held together by **Wraith**'s magick..._

_A few notes... An 'unclean woman' refers to a 'menstruating female' / 'girl during her period' (yes, yes, I know that sounds really distasteful to many people). It was adapted from biblical context (and then some) that those women were deemed unworthy of any relation to her people, especially men. For more information... err... don't look at me...?  
My beta asked me "What are the 'wings of Azrael'...?!" Azrael is the messenger of Death, adapted from Koran / Quran text (nay, I am not a muslim). Consequently, 'wings of Azrael' would point to the 'bringer of Death'.   
End notes.  
  
  
  
~ Aoi Akiko_


	7. Chapter 4

No. _Mighty Ducks, the animated series_ not mine.   
But _Princess Ambrosia _and story are mine ^_^  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~

Chapter IV

~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
A white horse shot away from the quiet city, its rider clinging onto its mane for dear life. 

Though, in this circumstance, she urged it all the more…

"Faster, my faithful friend… Show me what speed your kind possesses…" then, almost as a prayer, she continued, "The King must be told… DuCaine guard them – may it not be too late…"

  
~*~*~*~

_No more than an hour before, the violet-robed Sorceress had learnt of a painful truth—_

_"Aiyee…!! Stars… what ill-willed structure hath decided to hit me on the head now…?!?!"_

_Beside her chair was a serene crystal, the object of her frustrations. Only… now its serenity was flawed, a tiny chip broken from its perfect edge…_

_She picked it up with care, wondering how and where this familiar gemstone had originated from. She looked up…_

_… and promptly screamed…  
  
  
  
Every living being belonging to the Service of the Royal House possessed a singing crystal, and it was the Magus' responsibility to tend to each. The cracked jewel in her pocket belonged to the most recent addition to the Palace…_

_It could only mean one thing…_

_"Macareth – the Queen is *dying*…!!"_

  
~*~*~*~

He had not seen this man's face for the longest time…

"Fetch the water – his wounds must be cleaned!!" "Bandages, have ye more bandages?!?!" "Where is the poultice, kind woman? Quick, split the herbs and take it to the grindstone…" 

… and though he wished the circumstances leading to their reunion could have been better, he would do his best to make the most of it…

"I know who you are, fair child…" he whispered to the pale-feathered youth unconscious on his bed, "… and I swear upon my life, I will save you…

"For King and Country, _ elthmareth_…"

  
~*~*~*~

His Lordship's right-hand-man entered the solemn clearing just as another strangled cry rose from a throat raw from abuse. 

"Halt!!" he barked, twisting the arm of the guard about to unleash another unforgiving blow, "Else I'll have you tied to the Stone next…" The lesser man trembled where he stood, and the Royal Knight shoved him away in disgust, "Away with you. All of you. 

"I wish to speak to the boy alone…"

The small gathering of armored men hurried to comply to their General's command, for none would dare respond otherwise. Within scant minutes, a duty-burdened man and broken child were all that was left…

The decorated Guard frowned at the sight of the chaffed feathers and raw skin of the bound fledgling lain torso-down onto the Punishment Stone, reflected by the light cast by a single candlelit lamp. Though it not so much in disgust for what this young one had done, but more so for how unfairly he had been treated by his own men. 

_Some honor the King's men hold… I should burn a mark in their necks for each lash this boy has had to suffer…!!_

He knelt by the blond-banged adolescent, chest heaving and evidently in much pain. A gentle glove hand was placed on his bared shoulder. The other winced, biting back a hiss. The hand was removed. 

"I did not order this."

Blue eyes glared at him, a bitter laugh under his scathing tone, "You expect me to believe _THAT_, after what _*they've* DONE_?!?!"

He crossed his arms and held his head high, "I do, because as His Majesty's very shadow, I can do no less – the choice to accept it, however, is entirely yours…" 

The youth scowled at him, but said nothing. 

He sighed, then turned stern, "Of course, if I had believed you had done it _intentionally_, _ *I* _would have been the one flogging you instead…"

A rude snort, "Gee, I guess _that _should be considered an honor…" Then a startled yelp, he repeated, "Wait… _intentionally_…?"

"If you had wanted to assassinate His Majesty, you would've aim for his head…" the seasoned swordsman explained as he cut the ropes preventing escape to push the young bandit upright, earning a sharp gasp but an otherwise quiet charge, "… or at least something more vital – you caught his kidney…"

"Isn't that _vital_ in some animals…?" came the bold retort. 

"Hold your tongue – His Majesty is _NOT_ an _*animal*_…" the elder one snapped, wrapping medicine-soaked bandages from a bowl around the other's wounded back. The golden-crowned child whimpered. He sighed, "Puncturing a kidney would've been serious if we only had one – thankfully, all of us are born with two…" The ends of the gauze were knotted, "Can you sit up?"

"I can try…" was the meek reply, shaking limbs moving to support himself. The darker man detached himself from the slim boy's body, their bodily contact severed. The smaller one was massaging his sore wrists and hands, white knuckles beginning to color once more…

"You believed what I did was an accident."

A statement, not a question. 

"I do…"

"Oh…" golden locks hid his eyes as he hung his head, his Adam's apple bobbing once, "Um… how is he…?"

"The healers are still tending to him… Though you hit nothing important, you _did _draw a great amount of blood…" the words were said with a hint of unnecessary reproach, thus he softened his next narrative, "His Majesty is a most forgiving man… If he lives through this night, you can plead Royal pardon…"

"So… what happens now…?"

The Knight turned to stare at the honesty in his captive's eyes. It would not do to break the code, despite his current righteous rage… He straightened his back and unhooked a handful of leather bindings from his belt, "Unpleasantries, I'm afraid…"

"More flogging…?" a desperate sob. 

The elder said nothing, shifting forward to catch the youth by his wrists. The bandit teen shook under his touch as he secured the two together, saltwater watering the grass beside his knees…

The weight tied to the cord was held above the Punishment Stone, and to the younger one's amazement, a pillar of light shot from its axis. He tried to pull away, but found no leverage from the shining beam keeping the weight within its lightpath, held by the strongest magic…

The cloaked figure rose and turned away. 

A sincere promise, "I don't flog innocents…" 

Blue eyes wide with disbelief snapped to his attention. 

"I… d-don't understand…"

"Contrary to its name, the Punishment Stone was never intended to be used for Punishment… more so Repentance… Bound to it, you can't escape from it, and you can't carry it with you – much like mortal sin, is it not…?"

A voice born of weariness continued, "The men expect me to restore justice, thus I must fulfill their image of me. I cannot condemn you, because I believe otherwise; on the other hand, I cannot betray their trust… So I must do this, as compromise between both worlds…

"As to what will happen to you afterwards, I leave that in the hands of Fate. If the King lives through the night, then I will release you from here to seek his grace… But if he dies…"

The younger one shut his eyes and cringed, as if to avoid the final blow…

The blow never came. Instead, a small compass was placed between his hands, "East is _that_ way, boy… I suggest you start praying…"

  
~*~*~*~

She had been watching the falcon for some time now, her suspicions becoming more concrete as the night wore on. When the dubious figure disappeared suddenly from her view, she knew it was time to act. Without a moment to lose, she rushed to find her superior.

Bursting through the flap of his private tent, he caught her as she fell into his arms, her exertions taking time to calm her wildly beating heart. However, her actions were misread, his voice purring teasingly as he leaned down to her ear, "What's the rush, sweetheart…? The night is still young – we have much tim—"

A dagger was pressed to the bulge at his neck, "How many times do I have to _kill _you for calling me that insufferable name…?!?!"

He sighed and released her, to which left her no support to hold her in equilibrium. She gave a panicked squeak as she fell, crashing onto the floor in a tangle of limbs and weaponry. He gave a quiet laugh as he knelt by her, "You look like an unfortunate spider…"

Her gauntlet flew towards his chin, making him stumble from his perch and onto his back. She rolled upright and straddled him across his waist, blade held deadly once more to his most vulnerable point. She smirked, "No… Now, *_you* _look like an unfortunate spider…"

"Get off me, woman…" he growled playfully, the glint in his eye unmistakable. 

Nonetheless, there would be no further talk into their current topic of who looked worst as a sprawled arachnid, her eyes turning serious as she sheathed her weapon. "Something is not right…"

The mirth in his voice was stolen, echoing her lead, "What is it, Sword Sister…?"

She stood and helped him to his feet. A finger to her lips, she beckoned to him, "Follow me…"

  
~*~*~*~

"… and tell the Raptor, _The city is unguarded, what with the best of the Brotherhood out here with our Puppet King_…" there was a grunt, and the tree behind him rustled. He frowned, "Hey, aren't you forgetting something…?"

"Hn, like what…?"

"Like my payment… The Raptor promised me reward for every report…!!"

"Oh, really…? You mean like _*this*_…?"

A Saurian corpse was thrown before his feet. 

He leapt backwards in fright, a curse on his tongue, "Son of a—"

"Indeed…" his opponent agreed, stepping away from the shadows. The falcon snarled at the figure emerging from the darkness, his one-eyed rival revealed, "You…!!"

"I have a _name_… _ *and*_ a _title_ – alas, you are far too unworthy to say it…" came the calm remark as they faced one another, hands on their respective hilts, "To think that *you* were the one who betrayed our fair _Queen_ to them… who would betray our fair _Kingdom_ to them…"

A dark laugh, words drawn out with poisonous emphasis, "What can I say, _friend_… The Raptor pays well – far better than what I'd get from _*your* _fair _kingdom_…"

"So you would trade short-term gains for a long-term loss…"

The scrape of metal against leather… A blade glints white under Luna's witness…

"So be it…"

An arrow shot from behind the Royal Guard, missing his head by a hair's breadth, embedding itself into the shoulder of his adversary's sword-arm. Blood splattered against the tree behind the traitor, crimson like the dyes of his cape… His arm fell away useless, his sword clattered against the roots… 

The fallen Brother growled against the pain of his wounded appendage, "What honor do you have, _ friend_, by using an unseen enemy to attack your foe…?"

"Every honor our Brethren hold true – at least I didn't order the arrow to strike from behind…"

"Bastard…"

"Of course…"

Shouts were heard from the camp they had erected not too far away, blurred circular orbs of brightness cutting through the darkness. 

A quiet laugh, "You know… it's rather surprising how I could call you my friend without malice, yet you could never say the same…" 

The gray-feathered swordsman lifted his bowed head, his wavering smile belied by the brightness reflected by the moonlight in his eyes. The injured man startled at the singular tear marring the other's countenance…

The voices of the Brotherhood drew near, as did the light from the lanterns. 

The tan-bodied avian looked away first, closing his eyes. His life-stained fingers moved away from his broken flesh, digging past his armor to fish out a familiar silver pendant. Clutching to it tightly, he chuckled, "Heh… this is it, isn't it…? I suppose I deserve to die, because there is nothing I can deny. But if I am to die tonight—" he arched and exposed his throat, "—may it not be by the hand of underlings…"

His sword was retrieved from the ground, its tip poised at his pulse point. It would be his sword, but not his hand. "So be it…

"You are hereby tried and condemn for treason…" "… forgive me…" "… and thus shall be sentenced to your death…" "… undo my wrong…" "… May DuCaine have mercy on your soul…" "… stop him in time…"

Firelight faded from dulled eyes, what was once warm turning cold in the night air…

The sword felt heavy in his hand, its blade tainted, as its owner had been. He dropped it as if burned by its impurity, hissing as it clattered at his feet…

"Sir…!!" his comrades crowded around him, battle ready and alert. Preparation unnecessary, the amber radiance illuminated a dying avian and dead Saurian near their commander. Confusion dawned, "S-sir…?"

His Majesty's Knight turned swiftly on his heels and strode purposefully away from the site, the gathering parting to allow him passage. The fierce glow in his eyes deterred further questions. 

"Burn the corpses…

"A traitor has been eradicated this day…"

  
~*~*~*~

He entered his tent, physically and mentally drained. All he wished for was rest…

"Swordsmaster…!!"

… respite was denied…

"Spellmistress…?!"

… would this night never end…?

"Please, where is His Lordship…?! I have grave news—"

He bowed his head, cursed his being, and ushered her to her final destination, "Come with me…"

  
~*~*~*~

Far and away, a defeated soul clawed at the gates of Death, begging entry…  
  
  
  
_The Crimson Terror roared in fury at the silver entrapment denying him satiation—_

_"A *CHASTITY* GUARD?!?!"_

_His distraction provided her a sliver of optimism, scrambling away from him as quick as her feet let fly. The doors were already within her reach – if only… if only…_

_His powerful tail swiped a clear path under her, her form crushed against unfeeling stone. Her fingers slid away from the golden key that was her salvation…_

_"And where do you think you are going, beloved…?" silken ice whispered past her ears as a forked tongue slid itself upwards. She mewled in pained desperation, "S-stop it…"_

_"If your so-called husband has not deflowered you, then he is more impotent than I had ever imagined him to be…" the insult grated against the walls of her heart, but she truly lacked the strength to retort, be it well or ill. "And now, look at what it shall lead to…"_

_She risked a dreaded glance to what horrors he referred to._

_She would regret taking that risk…_

_A claw was held against amethyst flame, the tip glowing red hot, burnt edges smoking. He pressed her ruthlessly against the bruising slate, the incandescent point held to her milky shoulder. _

_"If I canna *have* you, my pretty—" _

_Flesh sizzled under cruel talons, the mark of a Dragon forever etched into her stolen innocence. _

_"—I'll have no one else *want* you…"_  
  
  
  
Red and blistered her bleeding back, she curled unto herself, the remains of her dress cocooned tighter against her numb skin. 

"_Se'Reike Luire… Melef un'toth hamme…_"

A tiny mouse nudged her lifeless face, ashen by the rays cast from the weeping moon. Her dam broke, and it licked thirstily at her eyes, paws patting her cheek as if in thanks…

_… Guardian Counselor… Grant me rest…_

The last image that filled her head was of her smiling husband, longing for her return…

_… forgive me…_

_… let me die…_

  
~*~*~*~

Morning came too soon in the midst of a prayer. 

An exhausted fledgling suddenly snapped his head upwards, eyes transfixed on the rising sun, his fatigue forgotten. To him, the coming of dawn could only mean one thing – life or death…

The bushes rustled, and his executioner stepped away from them, dew clinging to his boots, dampening the leather. He drew his sword, the blade gleaming orange and gold. The youth gulped and bowed his head to the grass, hoping for a swift execution…

The blade came down. 

_*chink*_

He could feel someone blanketing him with a warm cloak, gloved hands massaging his sore shoulders, a smooth voice encouraging him to stand—

Eh…? He was… alive…?

"H-his M-majes-ty…?" the younger one's teeth chattered badly with cold, his fair complexion pale and white.

Rumbling laughter, "Sore and disoriented… nonetheless, he is awake and much alive…"

"H-he's al-right, t-then…?"

A clap on his shoulder, "You did good, kid… You must've prayed really, _really_ hard…"

At that point in time, the elder knight could have said that he had laid an egg that was worth his weight in gold and he still wouldn't have cared. What mattered most was that his monarch was alive—

—and that meant _*he*_ would live too…

"T-thank Du-C-caine…"

"Oi, kid… Kid…? KID!!" 

And if his friends could see him, the notorious Bandit Prince, sprawled on the lap of a Royal Knight in dead faint… at least they would've said he was smiling in his sleep…

  
~*~*~*~

He stared at the broken fragments of his wife's life crystal. By some unnatural force at work, a most obvious crack had begun to form from its core. 

"It can't be… _SHE _ can't be…" he choked, his hands closing on the flawed jewel, two tears glistening against its cut surface; and only that, because the stone had refused to shine. 

The blond-haired Mage had dropped to her knees in disbelief as she watched the gem tumbled out of the velvet satchel in three pieces instead of two, the largest piece beginning to cloud. Her Majesty's condition had only worsened during the night, and she had not known _when _it had taken such a drastic turn…

Learning of her charge's fading life had only made the blow all the worst for the emerald-eyed swordswoman, her head rested against the tent's supporting pole. If not for the constant reminder that the aforementioned stem was the only pillar sustaining the entire structure they were under, she would have struck out against it. Already a nearby tree behind the tent had borne her wild temper as soon as she had heard the news…

The eldest of their gathering touched his sovereign's paler hand, catching the other's attention. 

"What now, Sire…?"

The grieving man opened his palm, rolling the imperfect glass in his hand. 

"She's not dead…"

Three heads turned to him. Their curiosity gave him strength, "As long as her life crystal does not crumble into dust, she isn't dead – isn't that right…?"

The last was directed to his learned Magick. Suddenly stricken dumb, she could stutter an unintelligent affirmation. 

"And even if she is _ dead_, we will still claim her body, yes…?"

Again, his question was put out into the conversation circle, to his most trusted confidant this time. The elder man bowed his head, before nodding, once…

"Well then, the answer is obvious. I will not give up on her – I _*can't* _give up on her. We've come this far, we canna turn back now…"

"What of the traitor, Sire…? The Saurian forces know we are approaching their stronghold – how many and how skilled—"

"Then we change battle tactics…" the determined Ruler replied, holding the cracked jewel against the light. "We take a smaller company to avoid drawing attention, sneaking into the Raptor instead of open assault…"

A pause. 

A rustle of limbs. 

"I shall ready the horses…" "Must spell the weapons, conjure protective wards…"

Left alone at last, the remaining subject faithful to his Master gave a quiet chuckle. "A most inspiring speech, m'Lord… and an excellent decision…"

Silence.

"There isn't much time, is there, my friend…?"

He turned back to his smaller companion with eyes still fixed on the sullied stone. He sighed, "We will get there before the end, my Liege…"

"Don't think me rude, but…" he swallowed thickly, the gem brought away from the light at last, "… will you hold me…? Treat me like the babe of my past, in need of comfort… 

"I need you… my friend…"

Wordlessly, the elder one slid his arms around the other's shoulders. The insecure youth clung to the seasoned man as if a lifeline, anchoring his sanity and resolve…

It was then the floodgates split open…

And in truth, neither would have wanted to let go…

  
~*~*~*~

As soon as the horses were saddled, fifteen men (and one woman) rode off to the West, promising to return triumphant…!!

… or die trying…

They left behind one irate Sorceress…  
  
  
  
She fingered the ornate bangle that bound her to her responsibility, the unaccustomed metal feeling so alien on her wrist. She knew the circlet could be removed from her end, but not his. Experimentally, she tugged at the bindings. The youth's arm tethered to hers moved. 

He turned to her, "What…?"

"Nothing…" she grumbled, hiding the bracelet under her sleeve. She kicked at a pebble beside her foot, "Just wondering how of all the people in this camp, he had you tied to _ME_…"

"Maybe he's trying to play matchmaker…" the bandit teen suggested, then grinned, "To which, of course, you should be grateful – because I am one handsome littl—"

"Oh please…" she groaned, feeling her sore temples, the onset of a severe migraine soon on its way. "Look, let's set certain boundaries… You're a _charge_—specifically, _*MY* charge_—meaning, there's someone in _charge_ of you—namely, _*ME*_… Thus, and _thusly_ thus, you listen to me, and only me, and that's it. Understood…?"

He stared blankly at her, "Um… Okay…"

"Good…"

She had about 3 seconds of precious silence from him. 

"So anyway, like I said, I'm the most handsome little duckie this side of the woods, and a genius of a bandit besides, so you should be thanking your lucky stars that your _friend_ decided to pair us up – because, really, he doesn't trust anyone else; especially after that little stunt I pulled yesterday (and a little of what happened last night)… but that's besides the point…!! By the way, with all the happenings happening—ooh, a little rhyme…!!—all at once, I didn't quite catch your name – _so_, what *is* your name, eh…?"

She began pounding her forehead against the nearest tree trunk. 

_It's going to be a long week ahead of me…_

  
~*~*~*~

She peered past the shadowed corner, emerald eyes watchful for her partner's presence—

A serrated edge met the bared flesh of her neck, "Well, well, well – look what the winds brought in, hmm…?"

She did curse, shoved against the wall with her arms held useless. Her captor chuckled darkly, "Such language from your lips – I take it you're no lady, are you…?"

"Get your filthy hands off me, you filthy little ra—"

_*poof*_

A strained pant, "Really, Sweetheart – you shouldn't be calling him such _fitting names _while I'm casting spells…"

The weight behind her had vanished, replaced by a small furry mass bouncing off her boots. Gladly, she gave the foul creature a bruising kick, the grizzly ball flying towards the stone partition – spine broken, blood run cold…

She glared at her companion, "And where were _*you*_…?? Was I wrong to assume you were supposed to be guarding my bac—_mmph_?!"

The clouds veiled Her eyes, the Night lost its sight…

He released her mouth, both gasping for air. He fell back against his own wall, "I swear, Red, you'll be the death of me yet…"

Flushed and flustered, his words made no sense to her at the time, "_*WHAT*_?!?!"

"I broke a Spell while _ guarding your back_, Sweetheart – goddess, do you think I _enjoy _ halving my Life-force and suffering from Mage Fevers while I'm at it…?!"

_So it wasn't a kiss… only to replenish his imbalanced Energy… _ Even more embarrassed, she muttered, "Oh… Sincerest apologie—"

The taller one held a finger to her lips, eyes speaking volumes, "Don't…" 

Twin hearts shared a single heartbeat…

The clouds parted, Night's beacon shining once more…

The spell broke, his attention torn away from her. 

"Come on," he whispered, guiding them both into another corridor, "We have to get to the tower to signal the others…" 

She nodded mutely – emotions in turmoil, objective but one. "Ah…"

But the feeling she had missed something wonderful lingered in the air, faeries sighing with eternal regret…

  
~*~*~*~

A torch flared from a clawed spire.

From the depths of Artermicia's realm surrounding these barren lands, shrouded shades crept swiftly into the ominous lair of the unknown…

"Search the dungeons – leave no cell untouched…" hushed as his words were, the Brotherhood would not deny their King, "Now go and be safe…"

Each to their own, the fair-faced monarch found himself alone – darkness his cover, stealth his ally. He fingered the satchel tied to his belt, feeling for the jewel within. It remained substantial to his touch…

_Wait for me, beloved…_

The dank scent of decay filled his lungs, threatening to suffocate him to his own demise. Fighting the urge to retch, he continued on, perseverance fueled by his strength of will. Thirteen doors faded behind him, its emptiness haunting. Despair began to gnaw past the protective barriers of his vulnerable heart…

_Wait…_

Movement – a trick of light? 

_Ambrosia…?_

The locks were undone, aged metal ground against corroded hinges. Conjuring an orb of irradiance, he inched carefully towards the hanging form bewitching his curiosity…

The luminescent sphere shattered at his feet, his eyes wide at the sight before him…

Sight robbed away by hollowed voids, appendages useless by shattered bone, raw flesh exposed by stripped skin… Yet – a decade of abuse could never mask the familiarity of kin—

"_*Cousin*_…?!?!"  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~

_Aoi Akiko ramblings:_

_That... was... an emotional *nightmare* to write... (you try cramming the minds of 6 different characters into your head over the events spanning only 2 nights in a row *faint*)  
In all honesty, I am in dire need of poetic inspiration to return my mind to medieval-styled narrative, hence the rather lacking script its consequence..._

_*ahem* Time for personal thoughts...  
I made this chapter a little **Duke**-heavy, didn't I...? Excuse my biasness, he *is* my most adored... On a more practical note, it was done rather to foreshadow his role in the upcoming chapters.  
To clarify any uncertainties - the arrow shot at **Falcone**'s shoulder was courtesy of** Mallory**, hidden in the distance (though that wasn't too clear for my Beta); andyes, I loathed it, but **Falcone** is now dead... though... I gave him an inkling of humanity through guilty conscience; end chapter suggest that **Duke** and **Mal-mal** have something more than kinship within the Brotherhood, but the fact is yet to be decided (more to come, Daniella L'Orange - don't worry ^_^)...   
(to k2) Oh, and *NO*, **Wildwing **and** Duke **are NOT *GAY* (where the Puckworld do you get these ideas from, you silly girl...!!)_

_Ah, and the language Ambrosia's using is Zoisitrè... Copyrights are mine ^_^_

_Side notes pertaining to original history:  
[1] If one's family is sane, a virgin bride is given her chastity belt/girdle shortly before her wedding. The key is given only to the groom, and is opened on their first night together. It's removed during menstruation, but otherwise kept locked.   
(In the case of my story, Ambrosia wouldn't have had it on in the last chapter in the bedroom, thus explained her extreme nervousness. But since she hasn't officially been bedded, it would remain otherwise...)  
[2] Magic was thought to be an exchange of energies between you and your environment (or recipient of spell). Regardless of rank, everyone is believed to possess innate ability to handle magic. However, only a magus can control it - others are easily overwhelmed. Rebalancing occurs by sharing it with another magic user...  
[End notes]  
  
  
  
~ Aoi Akiko_


	8. Chapter 5

No. _Mighty Ducks, the animated series_ not mine.   
But _Princess Ambrosia _and story are mine

...oOo...  
  
.: Chapter V :.  
  
...oOo...

.

"I'm bored…" the younger one complained, rocking on his heels as he tickled liquid glass, his reflection marred by ripples undulated. He grumbled, "And you're doing a _fine _job ignoring me…"

He tugged at the chain binding him to the frustrated Magus, forcing her wand away from the column of water swirling in the air with her concentration. The Spell broken, she glared at the attention-seeker, "What _now_?!"

The blond youth shrugged, and opened his beak, "Everything too perfectly peaceful… And since I can't stand it being so _perfectly peaceful_, talk to me before I resort chaotic behavior creating mayhem that'll ruin your spell anyway – and believe you me, I'll do it, because you're ignoring me… and I don't like being ignored… So tell me, what'cha working on that's taking so darn long – involving a bunch of weeds, a bucket of water and a cup of sugar, no less…"

For a moment the Lady Magician was silent, though it was hard to determine if she was in awe of his lung capacity managing to articulate all in less than one breath, or contemplating his murder and how she could accomplish such without endangering her profession. Finally she crumbled, smacking herself with a palm and groaning into it.

"If I tell you this once, will you please be quiet and let me work…?"

"I guess…" he chirped cheerful, smirking, _For about all of 5 minutes, that is…_

"An Origins Spell…" came her answer, giving in to his demands as she reclaimed her wrist, "It'll help the Queen when she returns to us…"

_Origin…? _he yanked it back, "How so? By sending her back to her homeland?"

"By returning her to her truest shape and form, closing physical damages and negating magical energies," she returned snappishly, a tug-of-war initiated between them. "I used the same Spell tending to the King…" Turning away from him in hopes of resuming her duties, she lifted the water vessel with her hands, "Now, I believe I've _entertained _you long enough, please allow me to return to my task of _ignoring _you for the rest of the day…"

Having said that, she left him to his own mischief once more…

But of course, he could cause _such _mischief…

A wicked idea struck him, and he grinned. _Not if I can help it…_

He pulled with all his might, and to his delight, her stool toppled backwards, sending her to the water's edge, ribbons and robes trailing. The bowl in her hands made an arc in the sky, a mockery of flight.

There was a loud splash.

He burst into helpless laughter.

A bonk, a sheet of water falling down, a curse, "Aww, man – I just washed this tunic…!!"

The aforementioned crockery mimicking the birds had had enough of inequilibrium, choosing to land upside-down upon the youth's head, contents overturned…. The sight would've been comical…

However, the Sorceress was less-than-enthusiastic at the moment, preoccupied by the fact she was sitting hip-deep in water, her robes drenched. She glared daggers at the culprit of her misfortune, wishing half-heartedly that looks could kill. Dragging herself out of her water-bound prison, her hands aimed for his neck, "Why you littl—"

The bowl was knocked away from the boy's head.

She gasped.

"A… patch?!"

He wiped the water from his eyes, confused, "Wha…?"

"A patch! A patch!!" she repeated, eyes wide as she held his head in her hands, "A patch on your beak…!! The only one in history to ever bear a patch was His Majesty's little brother… Unless…"

Realization dawned. Their eyes locked, "You're—"

...oOo...

"—_alive_…?!?"

"Yes, she is…"

The smaller one let out the breath she was holding, "Thank DuCaine…!!"

His cape unclasped, the gray-feathered Knight afforded his Mistress her modesty, covering her pale form from wandering eyes, may they be friend or foe. Her Personal Guard cradled her bleeding back, a prayer of forgiveness whispered against her cheek for such crude transportation. Both sought to abandon these forsaken prisons, "Quickly, we must gather with the others before they notic—"

A wall of armored Saurians leapt before their eyes at a turn in the corridors. Sighting intruders, they drew their weapons. Heavily outnumbered, the pair protecting the Kingdom's Jewel fled in the opposite direction.

"So much for a stealthy retreat…!!"

The hallways split, one leading to the courtyard, another to the tower. The elder Knight skidded to a stop, "We must separate – you take Her Majesty to the horses, I'll cover your back…"

"I can't leave you…!!" his fairer comrade-in-arms hissed, her emerald eyes wide, "They'll massacre you, tear you limb from lim—"

"You must – I am nothing compared to _She _who rests in your arms," he barked. In the moonlight, he caught the fear in her dilated pupils. He knew the look in her eyes and sighed, "Please… Do this for me…"

Guttural voices echoed from the depths of the castle, the glare of torches coming closer.

"Promise me you'll return, or I'll—"

"We have no time for thi—"

"Promise me!!" she insisted.

He leaned forward, about to catch her lips, then abruptly pulled away. She frowned at him.

A roguish smile, "I'll come back to finish that…"

Not a promise, but a compromise. The braided Knight nodded, once. "Don't you dare disappoint me…"

"By the Blood and the Blade…" the Brotherhood promise was a vow not to be taken lightly.

He watched her disappear into the shadows, her footsteps growing faint. Attention undivided, he drew his sword to face the oncoming threat.

"_THERE HE IS, MEN_…!!"

He took a stance and shut his eyes to the world, a breath to prepare himself. They thundered towards him, this lone Swordsmaster, seemingly no match for the legion descending upon his vulnerable being…

"That's right, you overgrown dunderheads… Follow me, take the bait…"

The first warrior lunged for him. He muttered a prayer to the Heavens, snapped his eye open, and struck—

Blood danced in the air.

The victor grinned as he admired the dark puddle pooling at his feet, "And they all… fall… down…"

...oOo...

She fled into the night, her cherry-colored braid flying behind her, leaving the chaos she had stirred behind her. A scant forest surrounded her. A little more… A little more…

Hoof-beats to her left and behind her… Letting her charge fall to the ground, her hand reached for her hilt. The blade left its scabbard, poised and lusting for blood…

"Sword Sister…!!"

Her arm shook with relief as she lowered her sword to the ground, eyes fluttering close. A shake of the head, and she was refreshed. Sheathing her weapon, the petite sword-bearer acknowledged the lesser Knight as he approached, her horse trotting beside him, "Aye… and I have Her Majesty with me…"

"It was you that had her, then…?" her companion commented, tilting his head. At her furrowed brow, he proceeded to explain, "We heard an order from our Commander to fall back, our mission complete. His Majesty brought with him an infirmed and rode ahead. It was not the Queen, thus we were told to wait for her return. Eight of the Brotherhood has come, and you…"

"Only ten of the original 16…?" she exclaimed, "Wait – any sign of the Royal Knight…?"

"Nay… we were still waiting for him when our company spotted you—"

Her heart caught in her throat. Hurriedly, she thrust the frail figurine into his arms, "Here, take Her Majesty to safer borders…"

"At once, Sword Sister, but… what are you doing?"

She swung herself onto her chestnut mare. The horse snorted as it was pivoted to face the opposite direction, head guided by the gentlest hand on its rein.

"What does it look like – I'm going back for the others…"

A small kick by its side urged it forward, the trot gradually gathering speed into a fierce gallop into the dark of a horizontal abyss…

The wind like a shard of ice against her cheeks, she snarled under her breath, "Especially one 6-foot-tall grinning idiot who better keep his word, or so help me…"

...oOo...

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…

And right now, her enemies were thinking twice about trying to sever her head from her shoulders…

This, unfortunately, led to their own demise, for she had no hesitations, blinded by her mission of hearts…

They fell away like autumn leaves, dead and dying, quelled quickly by her berserker temper. To the left… to the right… Down, down, down…

_Where are you, ye arrogant bastar—_

"If you're looking for your precious leader, _missy_," her current opponent sneered, "Don't bother – our General took care of him, well and good, when you ran away with the Princess…"

The Maiden Knight gasped, staring at the lone Saurian left standing. For the first time this night, she was afraid, _No…_

Righteous fury burned at her core, fueling her actions. Lashing out, she pressed the Saurian up against a wall, blade pressed against his throat, "You lie…"

The cocky creature grinned, lips parting to display his reptilian fangs, "No, I'm not…" A flicker of amber eyes, "It's almost as true as me telling you there's an arrow aimed at your back, so you'll join him soon…" A dark chuckle, "And I'll live another day, to kill your precious Monarch…"

Tears threatened to cloud her vision as she felt her control slip, its sting unfamiliar at the corner of her eyes. Her Commander was dead… her friend was dead… her _beloved_ was dea—

A string strummed once, a deadly missile on its way.

_Wait… that doesn't sound like a Saurian bow…_

She laughed. Her captive frowned.

One word, "Die…"

She reversed their positions. There was an audible thud, and the vile thing in her hands tensed. Her blade made short work of his armor, decorating the floor with his lifeblood…

Not far from her, a shadow slumped forward with a groan. Before it could fall, she caught it by the shoulder, a hand against its chest.

"You were supposed to be _guarding my back_, not _aiming_ at it…" came her voice tipped with steel, chiding gently as she dragged the heavier being to its feet. His glare pierced the thin light, a slight growl at the edge of his tongue. One-eyed, chipped beak – there was no mistake…

"I just save your life, Sweetheart – a second time, may I add – and this is what I get for it?!" the seasoned warrior grumbled as he reached for the blade beside a wall, "Some gratitude…"

"Hush… may I thank you properly once we're out of harm's way…" came her sharp suggestion before her voice softened, "I almost believed it…"

"What?"

"That you were dead…"

A laugh, "Alas for him, and you, it appears I'm not…" Then a wince, a hand pressed against a bleeding wound. Previously hidden by the shadows, she had not noticed the spear protruding from his side, "Actually, I _hurt_ too much to be dead…"

"Just a little more and we'll be—" was her encouragement, only to halt altogether, "Oh my…"

He looked up to see what she saw, and muttered tiredly, "This is getting repetitive…"

Another ambush, another trap. Not only a trap, but one in the Overlord's chambers…

And the Crimson Terror was waiting for them…

"Welcome, Puckworlders…" the crested Dragonling greeted, his voice dripping with venom, "I do hope you'll stay… for dinner…"

Raucous laughter all around, the Royal Knight cursed. He struggled to stand, holding onto his comrade's petite shoulder. A hushed whisper, his last command, "Second belt, back pocket; blue sphere…"

"I have it…" she returned, hands curled around the item, eyes watching the circle surrounding them close as they pressed against each other's back, "Now what?"

"Drop it, _HARD_!!"

She did so.

The sphere shattered.

An arc of white.

And just as the light blinded their eyes, he reached out for her, "I think it's time we finished that kiss…"

...oOo...

From the eyes of a god, a spark winked at him from the barren earth.

He raised an eyebrow.

A beam shot heavenwards, an explosion at its root widening into a circle of light.

He shielded his eyes.

The light faded, the dust cleared…

And in its wake, the crumbling ruins of the Raptor…

For the first time in a decade, he smiled…

.

If only others could share in Heaven's mirth.

...oOo...

Contrary to legend, from the ashes, a Dragon rose from the dead…

.

The enraged Overlord glared at the remains of his once standing fortress. Scattered haphazardly around him were the corpses of those loyal to his command. An entire army wiped out by two self-sacrificing do-gooders…

He let out a gut-wrenching roar—

Wait…! Movement, under the rubble…

Crawling out of the fallen Raptor, three Saurians hobbled to their Master. They fell to their knees, "M'Lord… We lived to serve you…"

Three… only three… Was it enough to destroy a nation…?

His foot kicked against a glass jar. From within, two bodiless eyes stared back at him. He picked it up, and grinned darkly, "For you, I'll do anything…"

"M'Lord…?"

He turned to his gaunt Magick to his right, the muscle-bound General to his left. One would resurrect his army, another would command it. And the Shape-shifter…? Oh, he'll find some other use for it later…

"Prepare yourself, my henchmen – come tomorrow, we go to _WAR_…!!"

...oOo...

His Majesty's steed cut through the dark like a specter, the trees rudely awakened from slumber. They murmured their disapproval to the wind, leaves rustling like a shudder of distaste. Nonetheless, the rider's anxiety touched the Elements themselves, and they lent their aid – roots and branches seemingly shrank away from his path, stones and shrubbery cleared by forest creatures, great and small…

A bandit scout sounded his arrival, a horn blown to signal for the gates to allow passage. Those yet not slumbering clambered out of their beds, eager to see if their King's quest had met with success…

There was a bundle in His Majesty's arms – did they dare hope…?

"Healers!!" the young Sovereign called out urgently, dismounting from his saddle, his wheezing horse led away to the makeshift stables. "Please, do not tarry…!! Wake your healers… and my Sorceress…!!"

They were redundant orders as the violet-clad Mage stumbled through the crowd, her young charge dragged right along with her, "My Liege, I have great news to tell yo—"

"There is no time, Faithful One…!!" he panted, rushing towards the tent serving as the bandits' infirmary, "Come quickly – I require your skilled hands…"

"Her Majesty…?!" she gasped, eyes wide.

To her confusion, the cloak fell away from the form it covered – and revealed a man.

A horrendously scarred, tortured shell of a man…

"Who—"

If her heart had not stopped before this, it did now.

"I know not how, I know not why, but I do know this…" her Leader's voice shook her from her distress, "This man is my cousin, the First Heir to the Kingdom – and I want you to do everything in your power to bring him back to me…"

...oOo...

No sooner had the apothecaries begun to work upon the mangled being subjected to innumerous tortures, another victim of Saurian abuse was brought in through the coarse flaps.

"Make way – we bring Her Majesty the Queen…!!"

The weary Ruler resting beside the doorway leapt to his feet, "_Ambrosia_…!!"

A golden head snapped to attention as the second figure was lowered onto a bed, swiftly darting away from one pallet to the other. "Away, away – let me tend to Her Majesty's wounds…"

The maroon cloth was torn away as gently as able, given the circumstances.

Her jaw dropped.

Cuts and abrasions marred once-porcelain skin, bruises discoloring it a dull, unnatural hue. The mere fact that they could see every inch of Her Majesty brought tears to her eyes, whatever fragments of silk and lace barely covering her form, tattered ribbons stained red…

But it was when they turned her onto her side to view her back did her husband finally succumb to his shock, falling away from reality.

Bloody and raw, yet the image was clear all the same.

The silhouette of a Dragon and a rune – the mark of the last surviving Saurian Overlord…

...oOo...

Dull wine-colored eyes squinted against the brightness snatching him away from the realms of deepest slumber, a snarl wretched from his throat. He brought a hand up to screen the harshness of the rays assaulting his sight until he had adjusted to it…

"Good morning, My Liege…" a hushed voice greeted him from the floor.

He frowned. He did not recognize this voice, and it unnerved him to no end. Where was his Royal Knight, his loyal friend? Better yet, where was his Beloved, his sweet Ambro—

"_AMBROSIA_!!" sleep was stolen from his mind as he sat upright in his bed, handwoven quilts cast aside. Rushing to the portals of his tent, it took him a moment to realize he was pulled back by something attached to his wrist. "What in Puckworl—"

"Her Majesty rests in the tent on the other side of camp," the only other entity sharing his chambers informed him, prostrating himself before the distraught Monarch. "Your esteemed Spellmistress left me here to answer any questions you may have…"

Whirling to face the kneeling young man, the impatient elder spat, "Fine… Who are you, peasant? Are you not the one who mortally injured me upon my last arrival?! Why are you here now, bound to me, when you should be bound to my Mage? Why are you here now, instead of she, left to answer my questions?!"

Came the muffled reply, words spoken carefully, tone unsure and withdrawn, "Answered in reversed order: I was ordered to stay, because Her Excellence begs absence to tend to Her Majesty in her current state of ill-health… My chain was transferred from her wrist to your own to keep you here, until she is done…

"And yes, I am the one who shot you with my arrows almost a week ago. For that, I humbly approach you now for your grace… As for the first question…" the cowering boy's head lifted from the ground just a tad, "I… truly do not know how to answer… but… Her Excellence is convinced that I…" a deep breath, "… am your brother…"

The last word echoed loudly within the silence of his tent. The white-feathered one stared, stunned beyond reaction.

"My brother is dead…" he hissed through gritted teeth, the turmoil in his mind held in check.

"Or so the Kingdom thinks… but Her Excellence is convinced otherwise…"

"What enchantment have you cast to rob my Sorceress of her senses?!?!"

"None…" was the truthful answer, the face now lifting, "She needed no more evidence… but this…"

The younger one's fingers brushed away the bangs from his eyes, simultaneously baring his beak. The elder finally saw what his Magick wished him to see—

"A hoax…!! You had no birthmark on your beak before we left…!!" the Crowned One accused, voice shaking with fury, "How dare you attempt to deceive your King—"

"The boy is innocent, Master…" a new voice boomed from the entryway.

A giant man obscured all light entering the makeshift door, in the plain robes of a wandering monk. He bowed respectfully to the Royal blood, "Your servant is here to serve you, Master…"

"And who are _you_…?!"

"I have been of little significance to you… until now…" the newcomer strode into the room to stand behind the kneeling youth having his face turned away, "I am the one who can tell you everything you need to know about this boy… and of yourself…"

Another migraine washed over the already exhausted Ruler as he sank heavily into a chair, "Explain…"

"According to rumor, the Kingdom lost its First Heir, and you a brother, all in one night, correct…?" the rumbling voice began, kneeling between the mentally drained young adult and silent teen. "The First Heir was said to have been captured by the Wild Beasts… but the Littler One…?

"That same time, our village found a fledgling by the Brambles. A lost child belonging to the wandering gypsies, perhaps…? He woke, and to our horror, the poor thing knew nothing of himself, not even his name…

"They brought him to me, believing I could ward off the Spirits of Forgetfulness to save him. I sought counsel from the stars, and received guidance on how to act…

"I was not aware of his identity, least of all suspecting he was one of the princelings of the Royal Household; all I knew was that he was destined for great things… but until then, I would have to hide the one thing separating him from all others—"

"The dark patch on his beak," the Sovereign finished.

The cleric agreed, nodding. He continued, "When they brought you here, I knew the time had come… I came away from my home deeper in the forest to lend you my aid as one of the healers. And now you are here, and now you know…" the towering figure bowed, "Thus, my duty here is done…"

Silence reigned in the small enclosed space as the priest, bowed rose and left, the sturdy curtain flapping in the wind. The white-feathered one stared.

"Then… it is true…?" he slid from his seat, slowly, onto his knees and crawled to the one kneeling before him. A trembling hand reached out to stroke a lock of shining blond, "You are really… my brother…?"

To his surprise, the other flinched away from his touch, "Don't…"

The elder of the pair frowned, "I… don't understand…"

"Whatever he said may have been true… Stars, the story itself is believable… Yes, I _may_ be a princeling… Yes, I _may_ be your brother…" he turned, and the elder one was struck speechless by the anger reflected in eye of cornflower blue, "I don't want any of it…"

"B-but…!!"

"But _NOTHING_!!" the bandit spat, wiping at his eyes as angry tears began to fall, "For the longest time, I never belonged anywhere. I didn't know where I came from, and I didn't know where I was going. I had no name, no family, no _NOTHING_!! Do you know how many times I felt like dying as a child? Do you? Do you?!

"Until I was given a home, adopted into a family willing to shelter me, love me, treating me as their own… You would not believe how happy I felt – I kissed every d..mn imaginable thing in my new room, right down to my new floormats…!! I grew up here, grew up to be a bandit… just like my _father_ and my _uncles_ and everyone else… I'm happy here! _HAPPY_!! It's because I feel I belong… Here, with my family… Here, with my people…

"Then you come along and ruin everything!! First, you scare the living h..ll outta me because I almost _KILL_ you, _then _you scare the living h..ll outta me by tying me to your Mage—who tried to kill _ME_, by the way, right before she squealed this whole fantastic tale about little ol' me being a high-born noble… And not just _any_ high-born noble – a _ROYAL HOUSE HIGH-BORN NOBLE TO BOOT_!!"

"And you aren't glad to know this?" the taller one countered, "To know the truth regarding your birth? Your blood?!"

"H..ll _NO_!!" seethed the little one, snapping his jaws dangerously, "I _KNOW_ your kind and your life. And I don't want anything to _DO_ with it!! And if you dare _force_ me into reconciliation with my blood, I'll have you know I have _NO INTENTIONS_ of coming willingly…

"I don't _want _to be a princeling. I don't _want _to be your brother… I don't _WANT _a brother…! I don't _NEED_ a brother…!!"

Words said, the fledgling scrambled to his feet, determined to leave. He managed to get within two feet of the entrance when he was pulled back by a chain.

"Well, _D..MN _it all again…!!"

Silence.

Then quietly, "You don't want a brother…?"

"No."

"You don't need a brother…?"

"No."

"So be it…"

The restraining bracelet around his wrist faded away from existence, the bangle on the other end falling quietly to the floor.

"By order of the Most High, your charges have been lifted. As your Sovereign King, I pardon you of all offenses made to my person and those who serve me…"

A dagger was placed before the lad, "Now go and be blessed…"

The youth frowned at the presented gift, "What's the meaning of this…?"

Tears masking the wine-mahogany eyes belonging to the Blueblood true, he stared at his long-lost brother a moment longer, before closing his eyes and turning to leave. "It means whatever you wish it to be… If this is what you want, then I have no further say in the matter otherwise. Either way, you win…

"Goodbye… my brother…"

A shift of gravel, a flurry of feathers, and he was gone…

...oOo...

"It cannot be undone…" he repeated, his white hand held against the ashen bandages.

She bowed her head in shame, "No, Your Majesty…"

"The Origins Spell—"

"—is powerless against wounds already closed…" his Servant explained, anticipating his question. "There were no lesions to be healed save for those other than her back… There was no magic involved… The Origins Spell was redundant in this case…

"And unlike a Puckworlder, Her Majesty has no underlying nor overlying feathers to hide her scars… She will… bear them for… a-an eternity…"

The Monarch cursed under his breath, a fist slamming against his knee, "_An eternity_…??! My own woman cursed to bear the mark of another man on her body for _an eternity_…?!?!"

The Sorceress cowered at his tone, "I-I… P-please, f-forgive me, there is n-nothing to be done…"

The pale lady stirred, weak eyes blinking open. Cracked lips parted, a confused voice of a child, "Where…?"

"Ambrosia…!!"

The first she laid eyes on was the Kingdom's Magick. A little higher, and she glimpsed the visage of her husban—

"… no…" she whimpered, shrinking away from his gaze, immobility rendering her efforts unsuccessful. Crystalline tears spilled from her eyes, "… please… do not… look at—"

His heart broke. A hand reached out to touch her, but he did not dare. She would not bear his touch… She could not even bear his gaze… All he had ever done for her was gone… The work of the Devil, robbing him of this last hope of all hopes…

His hand clenched into a fist just above her cheek, quaking with despair. Turning away from him, his beloved pleaded, "… p-please… just… leave m-me…"

He gave a strangled cry, one born of a man having lost everything.

Everything…

_Again…_

"Sire…?" the golden-haired Spellmistress called as he whirled away from the bed and fled, "Sire…!!"

Alone at last, the broken child wept louder…

...oOo...

"Why…?" he questioned, tears watering the grass by the tree he leaned heavily against, shoulder scraping cracking wood, "Why this…? Why now…?

"10 years ago, I lost everything I had – _everything_… 10 years later, Fate lets me hold on to them for a while, only to snatched them once more out of my hands…

"In one tent, my wife canna bear my presence near her, humiliated for life; in another, my cousin is dying – his body torn, his mind shattered, his soul ripped; across the clearing, my brother has disowned me, choosing instead a life of denial… Far and away, my Kingdom is in danger, the Saurians preparing an onslaught…

"Who will aid me…? Who will guide me…? Where is my mentor, my protector, my frien—"

He realized something amiss. Something he had not noticed before in his frenzied state. Someone close to him he had forgotten until now, a time he needed him most…

"Where is my Personal Guard…?"

Where indeed…?

...oOo...

A humble shelter by a stream, the waters whispering sweet promises to those who praised its comforting presence…

A washer woman scrubbed harder at the dyed cloths, wringing out pink-colored liquid into her basin. She groused silently to herself, slapping the fine material against the flat stones.

"Horrible creatures… bothersome things… unwanted burdens…" her monotonal mantra echoed through the woods.

But when she entered her warm abode, she could do naught by sigh. Two beds occupied, both cradling ones unmoving, souls disturbed, "DuCaine watch us… bless their souls…"

And beside the arched doorway, two swords bearing the Royal Seal lay quietly, waiting to join the song of War, far far away…

...oOo...

_Aoi Akiko rambles:_

_My mind is slipping into the abyss Please, girl, save me from myself..._

_O-kay...   
Honestly, this has been the most difficult chapter to write thus far... because **Wildwing** is an emotional nightmare to write...!! And with everything happening at once, he's heading towards disaster...  
Or is he...?  
grin  
__Ah, speaking about grinning, **Grin** makes his appearance...!! Um... actually, he's already made his appearance in the last chappie as the healer who said, "__I know who you are, fair child… … For King and Country, elthmareth…" I did not make a note as to not spoil this part... Still, all in all, he... doesn't play a very big part in this story, but... um... I really can't think of a part for him to play..._

_For those who want to kill me for... killing off **Duke **and **Mallory**... cowers Don't hurt me, please...!! I don't want to spoil it, but will you please wait for the next chappie at least... I'll do good on the next on, I promise...!!_

_What'll happen next...? Gimme a week, and I'll figure that out..._

_Side notes:  
[1] I do not like the formatting for this, due to taking away the little 'asterisks'. Thus, I've had to change my 'asterisks'-yelling to underlined-yelling... Okay with everyone...?   
[2] k2 thinks my characters are beginning to become very OOC... please tell me what you think... If I'm too out of line, I'll rewrite this...  
[3] **Dragaunus** saying, "I do hope you'll stay... for dinner..." taken from original MD:TAS, ep 26, 'The Last Face-off'_

__

__


	9. Chapter 6

No. _Mighty Ducks, the animated series_ not mine.   
But _Princess Ambrosia _and story are mine

Quick note: Apologies to those who read the last part of Chapter V and were confused... I was working on a part, deleted it, and re-wrote it, but what I uploaded was not the edited version. Mistake has been rectified. Please reread last 2 scenes before continuing Chapter VI

...oOo...  
  
.: Chapter VI :.  
  
...oOo...

.

"H-he will not live the j-journey… to the capitol…" she had said, holding onto a pale hand, "… not even… till t-this evening…" A solemn bow, "My h-humblest apologies… Your M-majesty…"

He gave a nod, eyes never leaving the sallow face representing the last of his rapidly disappearing family.

"Leave us…"

...oOo...

Daylight had not kissed his feathers for almost a decade in counting…

What was this gentle sensation then, enveloping him from above…?

Around and below – a soft coverlet…? A hanging mattress…?

Great gods of the sky – he was in Heaven then…? There could be no other explanation. Neverending nights spent shivering with cold, hunger his assailant, pain his tormentor. He knew he would die… could feel himself dying…

And now he was dead.

Wait – he could not see…!! The world was still so dark, so lost. He flailed in his cot, the illusion of an afterlife dissolvin—

"Hush… hush…" a voice consoled him, strong arms embracing him against a firm chest, "Please, be still… my cousin…"

"… _w-what_…?!" he gasped as the last word repeated itself in his mind, a hoarse, faltering voice echoing his thoughts, "… it c-canna be…"

A ladle of water pressed to his lips, pleading him drink. He complied – never had water tasted so sweet, the tears of Heaven so craved. But he was partaking of it too eagerly, coolness choking him, heart-wrenching coughs rendering him wordless.

"Slowly, slowly, my cousin…" such graceful assurance – a hand stroking his back, his head cradled against a shoulder, "You are still so weak…"

"… c-cousin…?" the elder one wheezed, fatigued lungs fighting for breath.

The younger man smiled, "Yes, I am here…"

Though his eyes could not see, his heart knew it true. Trembling fingers tightened against the folds of the other's chests, "… it _is _y-you…" a sob, "… you do not know… h-how glad I am… t-to hear your v-voice…" A sudden shudder, "… h-how did you…?"

A pause.

"The Brotherhood and I raided the Raptor…" a small laugh, "It was by chance alone we found you…"

The broken one groaned, "… s-so long… why n-now…?"

"You—" he was hesitant, uncertain to how he should answer this question. A lie would not serve him, though it would be kinder… must it be the truth, then…? A sigh, "You were not our first priority…"

His kin stiffened in his arms.

A decade of longing – to see the sun, to touch the sky, to taste the wind… A decade of agony – even before he lost his legs, his arm, his eyes… Fervent prayers, ceaseless and hopeful…

Yet, he was not _first priority_…?

An apologetic murmur, "We… were searching for our stolen Empress…"

"… I… see…"

The song of the forest lulled them both – one of quiet contemplation, the other in resigned acceptance.

It was a forgotten gesture, so simple in form, yet spoke volumes. Of quiet laughter, "… so, only a w-woman… could p-persuade you come… I understand n-now…"

The white-feathered one startled, "Y-you… You'll forgive then? For not coming sooner? Stars, you have suffered so much, so much…"

"…it does not m-matter now… y-you came at last…"

"Oh, my cousin…"

Two Kings – one of the past, one of the present – clung to one another, the lifeline of love. The younger one needed no regrets for failing the other in this life, his mind a storm stirring turmoil beyond his capabilities… The elder one needed no bitterness toward the one who rescued him, in times so final, as this…

"… she must be q-quite… exquisite…"

A choked chuckle, "She was to be yours, you know…?"

"… d-describe her…" he requested, a faint smile below his bound eyes, "… this bride I will n-never see… n-never hold…"

Absently stroking at the graying feathers above the bandage hiding the black emptiness that left his blood relative blind, the young adult was obedient to the command, "An angel, and nothing less than that… Eyes the color of the sky framed delicately by a veil of deepest mahogany, spring and autumn all at once… The sweetest lips, the softest hands—" Then a keening cry, "Oh, what use is this… Like you, I too shall never see her, hold her, ever ever again…"

The image conjured in his mind was shattered, calloused fingers grasping a hand, "… b-but why…?!"

"S-she… She…" a stifled sob if not able to withhold the saline from his eyes, "Cousin mine, your bride—our bride—has been _marked_…"

A voice shaking with anger, though cracking at its edge, "… w-who… did this…?!"

"The same… he who has caused you so much grief…" a king he was, but he felt so small… so alone… Here was his last comfort, one who had not yet betrayed him, rejected him, refused him… Burying himself into the hollow chest of his present counselor, "Forgive me, my kin, for I have failed protecting our bride, our Kingdom…"

"… h-how badly…?"

"What does it matter…? She has been wrongly disgraced… and I was not there to shield her…" a piteous groan, "The Council will turn her, the Kingdom will despise her… to dismiss her would be cruel, to keep he—"

"… hush…" their roles were reversed, feeble as the attempt may be, it was all that was required, "… h-how badly…?"

"… her entire back, his symbol burned into her ski—"

"… then t-tailor more gowns, darken her c-capes…"

"Cousin, this is no time for jest…!!"

"… I-I… am not j-jesting…" was the firm reply, unsteady hands feeling for his beak. "… do you… d-do you love her…?"

"…?"

"… s-so blind…" exhaustion colored the maimed man's response, brushing away the dampness coating his fingers, "… you do not think t-twice… in snatching your u-unfortunate kin from them… of no hope and d-dwindling life… look you, dearest one… the a-abuse upon myself, dealt by _H-his _hands… yet, you do not s-seem to see me… as anything less… than w-who you once l-loved… once c-cherished…"

"But the Council…? The Kingdom…?"

An amused snort, "… must they know of t-this…?"

"…"

A rhetorical question. But at that moment, nothing more would calm him better than the wise words of a fading brother…

A kiss on his brow, "Thank you, my cousin…"

Nonetheless, the wavering light of a candle neared its nadir.

"… g-good… _now_, I am ready to die…"

...oOo...

"The Kingdom's First Heir is dead…" the quiet monk informed them, gathering his hood to cover his face. It was time to mourn…

Voices whispered amongst themselves, their future suddenly so bleak.

Their Monarch stepped out of his tent, his armor gleaming in the afternoon sun. Trailing behind him, a shaken Sorceress, her head bowed to cover her face.

One of the Brotherhood approached him carefully, "What are your orders, M'Lord…?"

Tired eyes of purest wine blinked once, twice.

"Load the caravans and harness the horses," he declared resolutely, eyes surprisingly clear for one having witness death to one bound to him – so dear, so recently. "We leave as soon as able…"

His soldiers snapped to attention, saluting swiftly, "Yes, M'Lord. At once, M'Lord."

"Sire…?" his glassy-eyed Magick touched a shoulder to catch his attention as the men left to their chores.

He turned and gave her a small smile, "I will be alright, Spellmistress…" then to her surprise, "Go now, and tend to your Lady…"

"She will return with us…?!" the fair maiden exclaimed, violet eyes dancing for joy.

The smile widened, but he remained silent. The line between stations vanished, as she pounced upon him in eager embrace, "Thank you, M'Lord, thank you…" Pulling back just as suddenly, she flew to fulfill her task with quick words and quicker strides.

_So, all I do is love her, yes…? Upon your grave, my cousin, it shall be… it shall be…_

...oOo...

"Your brother is leaving…"

"He is not my brother…"

"… alright… Your King is leaving…"

"He is not my King…"

"You… will not say goodbye to them…? To him…?"

"Why _should _I…?!"

A weary sigh.

"You were not the only soul involved in this tragic play, my young friend. He has undergone the same, if not more – the only one left behind with the cut threads of Life. He needs yo—"

A chair flipped over the table. The sullen youth stormed away from him, shoulders squared, back rigid…

He would not be denied… not like this, not like this…

A foot before the doors, he capped the smaller one on the shoulder, "You may not say it out loud, but you need him too…"

An elegant snort, "Yeah right…"

"Promise me you'll think about it…"

The boy gave a grunt and twisted away…

And he did not look back…

...oOo...

"_NO!!_"

The nurse tending to her leapt back, having nearly lost her beak should she have collided with the other's head as her charge bolted upright in her bed. Winding down swiftly from her alarm, she attempted to pacify, "Careful now, my dear… 'twas only a nightmare… only a nightmar—"

Rich velvet graced her ears, "Please, allow me…"

The woman caught herself from swooning too obviously before the handsome stranger. "Yes, Sir, of course…" the former replied shyly, withdrawing from the scene. A wave of his hand commanded her leave, and with disappointed hearts, she obeyed.

"Hush now, Sweetheart, you're alright…" he soothed, patting his companion's back comfortingly as he gathered her, wide-eyed and shivering with fright. She gave a whimper, babbling incoherently into his chest. He indulged a secret smile, letting her ramble on between ragged sobs.

It took a while for her to realize the positions they were in.

She held herself away from him, hands planted against his shoulders, "Wait!! I'm—You're—We're—"

"We are…" he confirmed, nodding his head.

"B-but, we can't—" she squeaked, gripping her sheets to her chest, "We were—The Raptor—How—??"

He shrugged, yet was still smiling, "It may seem our dear Magus has forgotten to inform us of the spell attached to… whatever it was she gave…" A warm hand rested against her cheek, "Though… we did not escape the explosion completely unscathed…"

Her head was bandaged, a pad pressed against her temple. She stared down at herself, her torso and arm swath in strips of cloth, most probably torn from a sheet. Under the covers, her right leg was of similar condition… And seated by her side, her companion seemed to be sporting equivalent dressings, all the more prominent against his darker coloring and… opened shirt…

"How long have I been asleep…?"

"The women say five days… I myself woke only the day before…" he poured her a glass of warm liquid from a earthen pitcher, a sip from its rim before passing it to her, "They seemed to have made themselves very… available… since I came to…"

She blushed, processing the choice piece of information… until it literally _sank_ into her mind, "Wait – _available_…?!"

He nodded absently, unconscious to her face coloring beyond embarrassment. A glance just as she began entering shades of violet made him jump, "Nonono – that's _not_ what I meant…!!"

"You said _AVAILABLE_!!"

Ducking a pillow, a slipper and a wooden block (_"Stop hurling things at me, woman, and let me explain – I'm just as injured as you are… perhaps more so…!!"_), he barely caught the bedside candlestand before pinning her arms down beside her, "Goddess – who'd thought you were so possessive of me…"

"I am _not_ _POSSESSIVE_…!!"

Clamping his petite comrade's beak shut while setting the aforementioned _weapon_ far from her reach, he laughed, "Well, on the bright side a'things – you don't seem to be suffering from a concussion…"

She yanked her face free from his trapping, at the same time wrenching her limbs free and reversing their positions so that he was on the bed and she was straddling him, "Keep saying things like that and I'll give _you_ a _concussion_…!!"

At this inopportune time, a timid apothecary peered past the portals leading into the room, "I heard the Lady Brotherhood has—_EEK_!!" There was a clatter of instruments, of thick bottles and medicine bowls swirling, swirling, swirling…

"SorrysorrysoverysorryI'llcomebacklater—"

A roll of fresh medicinal bindings rolled towards the bed moaning under the weight of two very, very flushed individuals.

He broke the silence first, "You're explaining us out of this one, Red…"

She groaned…

...oOo...

"I'll leave the both of you alone now, Sir…"

"Much obliged…" he returned to the bowing maid, dropping the curtain serving as their door behind her. Whirling just as the cherry-haired lass made a distasteful face at her tea, he commanded lightly, "Now, now, drink your tea… You'll be surprised – for something so vile, it does wonders for your wounds…"

"And you know this _how_?" she growled, blazing eyes shifting from teacup to annoyance-of-the-day. He shrugged, "Shouldn't my standing up a _day_ after recovery be sufficient proof…?"

With an inaudible grumble, she shut her nostrils tightly and threw the questionable substance down her throat, a coughing fit almost too comical to describe claiming her victim at the end of it.

"Do you know where we are…?"

He stood by the window, watching the neighbors tend to their chores, the women their children. A small man-made brook babbled joyfully beside the house, more women joining the chorus as they chatted and gossiped over the growing pile of clothing overflowing their baskets…

"No…"

She limped to his side, her posture unstable, favoring only one side. Brushing away the modest drapes, she stared out with him.

"I can just make out the castle spires over yonder… If we can secure ourselves some horses—or share just one—we can make it to the capitol within a day and a nigh—"

"What will you do, once your duties are complete…?" he interrupted. She had not been sharing his view after all, his single eye focused instead on two small children, rolling merrily in the grass.

Her emerald eyes flickered from one scene to another, finally settling on him. Uneasily, she fidgeted, "I-I… I don't know… Return to my homeland, most likely… Settle down, start a famil—"

"Then let's – right here, right now…"

She stared at him, "Run away from our posts – are you _MAD_…?!?!" A little softly, "Y-you're not… You're not seriously thinking of—"

He nodded. He shrugged. "I wasn't… until we—you and I—lived through the most frightening experience _of my life_… together…" He shifted his gaze, "11 years ago, I fell in love with you… 11 years later, I find myself still as enamored by you as ever. You refused me once, because of your responsibility to the Queen…

"But we've wiped out an armada in the Western Wastelands, the greatest threat to our fair Kingdom… Our Queen is safe, as is our King…" he brought a hand against her cheek, taking a step towards her. Gradually, he leaned in, "I wondered… if we… could… pick up where we lef—"

"_RAIDERS!!_"

They parted, their senses alert to the call of a scout proclaiming the state of emergency.

"Mechanical invaders, burning their way past the border and into the forest!!" the lad's announcement made clear as he hurried children to their homes, animals to their masters, "We must evacuate to the caves before dark… Hurry! Hurry!!"

Both soldiers cursed, though both for different reasons – one vowed vengeance against the Saurian throne, the other questioned how Fate could be so cruel…

"Our choice has been made for us…" she muttered, stepping away from him to dress, her discarded armor picked up from where it lay beside her bed, "We have no choice – we must go back…"

He looked away, "Ah…"

She paused in what she was doing, her breastplate held against her front. "I-I'll… make you a deal."

Their eyes locked – his of questioning, hers of determination.

"As soon as this mess is over and done with, we'll resign… together," her eyes began to water, but she hid all other emotions well, "Better to be dismissed honorably than leave without a trace – we owe our Master and Mistress as much…"

With a crooked smile, he snapped the final lock of his attire. Pivoting fully towards her, he held out his hand, "Covenant accepted."

A nod, crimson tendrils bouncing, "Until then, promise me you'll fight—"

A raised eyebrow, he finished, "—for King, Queen and Country…?"

"No…" she pulled him into her and sealed their pact with the Lover's Promise. Releasing them both, flushed and breathless, she corrected him, "For _me_…"

...oOo...

The homecoming entourage into the city was done with as little fanfare as possible, horns at the front announcing the procession's arrival, mounts and men rushing through the gates. The Advisors assaulted His Majesty as soon as he entered his office, their wrinkled faces long and haggard.

"Tell us, Sire, do not keep us in distress…" "The Queen – how does she fare…?" "Is she _ill_—?" "—_blemished_—?!" "—or worst, _sullied_—?!?!"

And his more serious ones concerned about the nations, "What news from the West, M'Lord…?" "Is it true the Outcasts have raised metal ghouls from the ground…?" "Have you seen them??" "How many strong??!"

_DuCaine… give me strength…_

...oOo...

No man other than that of Royal decree entered the Sacred Chambers, a barrier the Palace Mage had set up herself. Even His Majesty's Royal Guard stood outside these allotted rooms reserved only for His Sovereign Lord and Lady…

Thus it was they were alone, two women born of different bloodlines granted perfect privacy…

"You must eat, Your Highness…" the maternal one pleaded, spooning the warm broth to feed the wilting Flower, eyes devoid of feeling, sapphires lost its sparkle.

_Like her Life Crystal, though now one piece, it is still so cold to touch… _the fairer woman resisted the urge to weep, _Scyial Letoph… D'rair, will you not come back to us…?_

"… he despises me…" a small voice broke her reverie, as sorrowful eyes dropped to her lap, where a white hand lay. Her other began playing with her wedding band, the elegant inscriptions on it glowing briefly, in response to her touch, "… if he had not the heart to hate me for my curse… surely he will do so now for what has been done to me…"

Never one to mingle, the members of the Court and their frequent complaints not hers to hear, the elder female felt helplessly inadequate. She was trained in the matters of mortal and immortal, a healer bringing man closer to the spirits of nature… But one of human hearts…?

Only a Spellmistress, not a Counselor…

_Where are you, my friend, this time I need you most…?_ she sighed silently, her mind conjuring the memory of her fiery-haired Swordswoman, her Knight had yet to return, _What would you do? What would you say?_

Setting the porcelain bowl on the table, she gathered her courage, and leaned forward to catch a hand.

"M'Lady, command me to speak freely…"

"… I grant it to thee, my Sorceress…"

"His Lordship cannot… _hate _you…" oh, such wrong words, but the meaning conveyed begged to be conveyed, "He loves you very dearly…"

They were small words, simple enough for a child to understand. And this child understood it all to well…

"… ever more reason, for I am unworthy of that which he gives so freely…" curling into a ball, the foreigner sniffled, "… I have been _branded_, Sorceress – I am no longer my own, nor of my husband's name…

"Look at me, Sorceress, and tell me I am _D..MNED_…!!"

"I am looking at you, my Empress…" the solemn voice began, "And I see _you_…

"You are my Empress, perfect in every way imaginable… No flaw on your body can mask what I see… Your mind is pure, uncorrupted by ideas of political malice… Your heart is true, untainted by desires of selfish nature… Your soul is innocent, untarnished by yearnings of worldly conquests…

"You were dealt a terrible thing to have endured so much… These scars may never fade, but they are healing… I have done everything within my power to do so… But what I cannot do is heal the scars within you… The ones I cannot see, I cannot touch… They are yours alone, and only you can reach them…

"His Majesty would not have had you brought home to scorn you. Nay, you are too precious to be cast away, too cherished to be set aside. He has fought tooth and nail for you, risked life and limb for you. These are not the actions of a man who hates you…

"Will you not make yourself unblind to his longing to see you, to hold you, to kiss you…? Will you not go to him to heal him…? To heal yourself…?"

There were no more words to be said, the Magician having poured everything, a lone candle of faith burning in her heart. Her silent Lady would not answer, the choice given undecided…

Rising gently, a tender hand brushed past her Mistress' fallen locks, revealing a frozen eye of darkest hue. One kiss placed under this unmoving pool of richest cobalt, her last whispers this night, "Be wise, beloved…

"But more importantly, be brave…"

...oOo...

Less than a hundred paces from the gates.

"No one must know until this is over…"

"Ah…"

Seventy paces.

"It would so wrong – His Majesty's and Her Majesty's Personal Guards…"

"Ah…"

Fifty-five.

"If they ever find ou—"

"Beloved…?"

"Yes…?"

Forty.

"Be silent."

"… oh…"

Thirty-five.

"Here, take this…"

"B-but… this is _your_ ring…!!"

"Wear it…"

Twenty.

"If anything should happen, this shall be my proof stating you as… my wife…"

"Your _WHAT_?!"

Fifteen.

"I love you…"

"… love you, too…"

Ten.

"_OPEN THE GATES!! THE ROYAL KNIGHT AND LADY BROTHERHOOD COMETH!!_"

He urged the stallion to quicken its steps, eager to be reunited with his Family, honor bound to his Master.

"For King, Queen, and Country…"

Staring at the ring on her finger, she dared to add – _For us…_

...oOo...

He held in his hands the Might, the Power, the Authority…

But he had not the Knowledge nor the Wisdom to use it.

_Where are you, my mentor…?_

He sat with his Council, listening to them devising strategies readying the Kingdom for Battle. Random ideas were put into the air, from an all-out assault standing firm both outside and within the fortified walls, to encouraging the peasants joining their cause with pitchforks and torches… Still, he was their Leader – his word would have the final say.

So tired… He wished he did not have to do this… He was still so young, forced the responsibilities of an adult since his fourteenth birthday, the weight of the world set upon his small shoulders. He had only begun to understand the most basic form of relations between the lands surrounding his own (with a marriage-alliance from Galaxia thrown in the thick of it). He was not ready to face the hostile confrontations from a war-mongering sovereignty wanting him _dead_…

_Where are you, my friend…?_

He sighed as he stared at the golden hilt leaning beside his chair, fingers tracing the Familial Engravings made for his forebears who had ruled over these land more than a hundred generations before the present. Was he to be the last to take up this Sword for his people…? The weakest of them all, the downfall of his Kingdom…?

_You left me too soon, too ill-equipped to do this one my own…_

_I… am alone…_

Fate reminded him he was never alone—

"SIRE – THE ROYAL KNIGHT RETURNS…"

"_WHAT?!_"

Great oaken leaves parted, twin silhouettes cutting through the brightness of the lighted hallways. Two great friends found each other across the room.

"We return to your service… Your Majest—" his most decorated Knight was cut off as his White King pounced on him, caring not for the attention drawn as they both fell to the floor. A wince of aching muscles jarred, but a hearty chuckle to calm any ill-ease, "There, there, M'Lord…

"I am glad to see you too…"

"So good… So good…"

There was Hope for this day yet…

...oOo...

She shouldn't be here.

"An _ENTIRE _legion…?!?"

This was not her place…

"Not quite, but confidently more-than-half…" the one-eyed Swordsman did say, sliding several iron figurines off the map, "The last we heard, only a handful survived the blast… The rest are of metallic make…"

Why did they call for her presence if she were not to be helpful…?

"His Mechanical Army…" the Ruler echoed, "Stars – we do not know how to defeat these… _things_…!!"

A cherry-colored braid made its appearance over the geographical scroll beside her, "We ran into a few on our way here… There _is_ a way of disabling them, if one gets close enough…"

All eyes on the Lady Brotherhood, "How so…?"

"Sever its head and stab its heart – a crimson stone set in its armor," there was a slight demonstration accompanying her explanation, slender fingers drawing a cross to mark its location on herself, a space between her chest and shoulder.

An elder General stepped forward, "Yes, yes, it can be done… We might employ the archers to rid the front lines before sending in our swords, then…?"

"I was hoping on something more specific before utilizing our arms," the Royal Guard spoke.

"What do you suggest, Brotherhood…?"

"These soulless puppets were raised from the earth and put together using the Dark Powers…" words heavy with meaning, those understanding his implication turned towards their most silent attendee. "Indeed… we should fight magic with magic, yes…?

The violet-eyed female glanced up, feeling eyes on her, "M-me…?!"

"Yes, we need your aid most dire… Will you fight with us, my Faithful One…?"

Uncertain eyes flickered a gaze between her dear friends, each eager to hear her answer. Her best friend squeezed a shoulder, encouraging her to take up the offered hand of their Master. They wanted her—needed her. What should her answer be…? Would she fight alongside these companions…?

_Nay, more than that – my friends…_

Amethyst darkened as a golden circlet lowered itself with its mistress' submissive gesture, "My hand is yours to command, M'Lord…"

...oOo...

The balcony was cold, but she did not mind it. Far from it – here, she could touch the sky and seek its guidance…

The stars shone like diamonds hung across the endless expanse opposing the land, crowing the glory of the midnight moon. Cloudless and clear, she turned to read the messages they hid from the world save for the few who learnt their wonderful language.

_… Se'Reike Luire, par e'leh doth me'chenna Krias…_

A star seemed to wink playfully from above, answering her request to stand before her Guardian Counselor of Hearts, her childhood deity of Life. She smiled. Spreading one wing, she plucked a feather and blew it to her Mother, a humbled offering for her questions.

_Lekh con'siur de mirideth… naire naire melef…_

The feather danced in the wind, riding the warmer currents swirling in the air. It swiveled gaily, an acrobatic stage-play orchestrated by an invisible hand…

Then the breeze died, and the angelical shard stood, stunned. It hovered, as if crying out for aid, then began to fall, a gentle spiral, down… down… down…

She gasped. _Se'Reike Luire… doth melef…?_

Her ring grew warm, though her skin was cool. She brought her hand up in line with her sight, mind piecing the significance of it all – the words of her mother, her confidant, her Guardian from above…

She understood at last…

The corner of her mouth lifted slightly, her fingers brought away from her vision. After all, she had lived her life for this one purpose, her whole reason for being alive…

_Goodbye, my Luire…_

Her wings faded into her back, the tears of an angel shed into the night, a promise woven into each as they flew away, away into the realms of darkness…

...oOo...

"… all our plans are well underway, M'Lord. We will make good time before the enemy strik—"

"I feared you were gone, my good friend…"

"… M'Lord…"

Young eyes turned shyly towards his father-figure of hearts, "So long I waited, but you never came back… I thought I'd lost you, forever…"

Ushering the weary Emperor into his chambers, the Knight chuckled reassuringly, "You would not be rid of me so easily, Highness…"

Wine ran turbulent in a glass, passed from gloved hand to one unadorned. The white one nodded in thanks, "I… found my cousins in the dungeons…"

Bottles tinkled against one another as the slipped from a hand, "You _what_…?!?!"

"While we were searching for my beloved – he lived still…"

The lesser man knelt by his Master, "Stars, I would never have guessed – w-where… where is he now…?!"

"He… passed on peacefully, away from his tormentors…"

The guard removed his sword belt and set it by his side, kissing the hand he served, "Sire, I am so sorry…"

"There's more…" the younger of the pair sipped at the rim of his glass, "I met my… brother… amongst the bandits…"

This was disturbing news, earning a splutter, "You're _brother_?!?!"

"Aye, he was found, through unusual circumstances…" another sip, "Nonetheless, we are now more estranged than before…"

"Who…?"

"The fair-haired child who shot me…"

"The _KID_—"

"The one and the same…"

"Stars—wait, you said you are _estranged_…?"

Knotted muscles ached as he slumped his shoulders forward, the boy-King ridding himself of his crown and outer cloak, "He… did not want me as his brother… He was happy with his life beforehand…" a sigh, "I would not make him come with me… he is old enough to choose…"

"You are strong, my liege…" consoled the seasoned man, relieving his Lord of his burdens, "I am sorry for your misfortunes…"

"Perhaps it's better this way… at least I know he is much aliv—"

"S-sire…?"

"… what is it…?"

The Knight spun upon his heel, holding up a delicate tiara and a slender key, "Aren't thes—"

As a husband, his charge knew the meaning behind these things left here. He rushed to his bedchambers, "Oh no – _Ambrosia_…!!"

Amber eyes shielded itself from the light before rising to meet the sacred symbol a tapestry one a wall. _Great DuCaine, watch them for me…_

...oOo...

_Aoi Akiko: happy sigh another chappie done... I'm off to bed now..._

_k2: grab Whaddaya mean you're OFF TO BED...?!?! This is a cliffie...!! Go write another chapter _–_ quick, quick, QUICK!!_

_Aoi Akiko: Oi, I haven't slept for more than a week writing for you... Don't you think I deserve a na_—

_k2: whip in hand You can nap LA-TER...!! I want to know what's happening between **Wing** and **Ambrosia**...!! snaps whip Do it NOW!!_

_Aoi Akiko: cowering from whiplash Eep _– _I'm working...! I'm working...!! grumblegrumble So this was what the others warned me about sleeping over with k2..._

_Aoi Akiko rambles:_

_Another chapter within 2 days... Oy vey, I think my brain's frozen... (background, k2: Your brain can't be frozen _– _I gave you a heated room and everything...!!).   
But k2 is right, and truly, truly, I can't stop writing due to the wave of inspiration my muses Eisce and Kei are giving me... Another chapter...? Soon, I hope..._

_Regarding a certain ahem couple... See...? I promised to make it good... **Duke** and **Mallory **are back in play...!! Their absence was deliberate, a foreshadow for upcoming events. Hope you like _

_Now for side notes:  
[1] **Nosedive**'s a little of a sulky adolescent in this... Apologies to his fans out there until Aoi Akiko rights his character again...  
[2] __**Mallory**'s title, 'Lady Brotherhood', belongs to my muse Kei... He like to... um... role-play **Duke** sometimes... sweatdrop  
[3] **Ambrosia**'s prayer to **Se'Reike Luire** translated as follows: Guardian Counselor, your maiden servant cometh Seeking counsel... I listen, listen... gasp Guardian Counselor... my service...? (it makes no sense now... but if I write up anymore, it'll spoil what is to come...)_

_Of origins:  
[1] A 'Lover's Promise', is a kiss... Reading poetry at three in the morning can affect you like that...  
[2] '... tears of an angel...', from what I have been led to believe, is not rain (tears of heaven / a god), but falling feathers from the sky...  
_

_blink Review, kudasai...? _

__


	10. Chapter 7

No. _Mighty Ducks, the animated series_ not mine.   
But _Princess Ambrosia _and story are mine

note: 2nd half of this chapter will jump from person to person - you have been warned... If you get confused, well... read it again, I'm sure it'll make more sense...

.

...oOo...  
  
.: Chapter VII :.  
  
...oOo...

.

"The Kingdom is going to War…"

Sun-kissed tresses shifted across his fair shoulder as he twisted himself to glare at the quiescent man uninvited. Throwing another scoopful of water over himself, he resumed his bath, "Why are you here…?"

"To have a word with you…" came the simple truth as the elder sat himself down, chocolate-colored robes folding under his legs, "We have much to discuss, young friend…"

"If it is to do with my brother – a _King_ preparing for _death_…" the teen returned just as evenly, matching the grave tone his companion employed, "Then I beg silence…"

Still gray eyes watched the youth as he swam away from water's edge, standing only when he reached a small waterfall, beating down upon his lean frame. He raised his arms and held an opposite elbow in each hand, stretching the aching muscles there. Sparing a moment to face his face, he tilted his head back, enjoying the coolness streaming past his face…

"You are still a part of this land as any other…" the darker-skinned man spoke when the lad waded to shore, water dripping off his feathers, "And yet you will do nothing…?"

"It's _his_ business, not mine…" the boy spat, combing his damp hair away from his face as he pulled the drawstrings of his slim trousers tight against his hips, "Besides, _bandits_ don't associate with _aristocrats_…"

"I had thought you would not speak of him…" the plain man commented, handing the young rebel his cotton shirt. A glare hailed from the receiving end, sustaining the lad's claim from then on. Then a whirl, intending to ignore.

Tired eyes closed, "You know – all it takes is one…"

"Really…?" the departing man drawled, faux honey dripping from the edge of his tongue. He gave a short laugh, turning his head slightly to acknowledge the presence of that who had spoken, "Sad to say – it will not be me…"

And so the chasm between them grew, just as the shadows lengthened with the setting sun…

...oOo...

From the depths of the castle, hurried footsteps clattered against cooling stone, praying to bridge the distance between two people in time…

The image of the items she had left behind flashed before his mind's eye.

_A key, a crown… One a sign of life's abandonment, the other marking an identity… _

And the collaboration of events conceding to the possible notion of the Empress taking her own life began to feel very real…

"_AMBROSIA_…!!"

His bedchambers were dark, the candles unlit in their ornate stands. The arched leaves leading to the open landing were split, the translucent curtains billowing with the wind. The balconies were empty, as were the skies above and the ground below. But scattered beneath his boots, silver-white crescents shone in the moonlight. His fretfulness grew, _No…!! After all that has happened, she canna have thought suici—_

"M'lord…" a whispered word, the faint scent of rarest flowers beckoning from behind him, "Here I am…"

How he leapt to embrace this creature fair, whose calmed voice he had not heard for nearly a fortnight. "Dearest one, I was so afraid, so afraid… Blessed our Savior fair – you're alive… you're alright… you're—"

He stiffened suddenly, hands touching planes unfamiliar.

"—y-you're… not clothed…"

She blushed, ducking her head slightly into his chest.

"N-not… entirely true… my h-husband…"

He took several hurried steps towards the balcony rail, his arms leaving her waist. Released from his embrace so tight, her self-consciousness returned, hands sliding up herself, pink darkening to red…

He realized that though he could yet retain his argument, her own seemed not misplaced – upon her shoulders bare, a gown paled against gossamer's wings studded by morning's dew, whispering against her skin, modest femininity silhouetted behind her veil ethereal.

He swallowed thickly, "A-ambro… sia…?"

She peered past her braids undone, shy eyes seeking his own, lips trembling with quietest words, "I-I… sent for y-your company…"

His heart stopped beating. "M-my… company…?"

Careful, bashful nods, "A-ah…"

_Not a surrender of mortality – but of love…? She never meant to give up on living – but for me… to me…?_

She shivered, but not with dread, for she had decided there was little to fear from this man, far from the Devil himself she had encountered. He noticed her need. Undoing his cloak, he threw its warmth upon her thin shoulders. Cerulean eyes snapped upwards in questioning. The eyes reflecting hers radiated sweet tenderness, "I answer your call now, beloved…" a kiss to her palm, "Now, forever, and eternity…"

All she ever wanted was a home that would accept her, a family that would love her. Though her scars were fresh, the pain associated with them would haunt her no longer. As long as they had one another, there was nothing more to fear.

The child beamed at last, her acceptance unconditional.

It was she who leapt to the initiative, pale arms sliding past his girdled waist, tears of joy sparkling rivulets few. "My King…! My husband…!!"

He held her close with a hand, the other smoothing the mahogany cascade from her small crown. It mattered little this being he cradled possessed her people's curse, a serpent curling from her back… His blood-brother had spoken truth – he had blinded himself when faced with his disfigurement, her scarified skin seemed trivial in comparison. He had said he loved her once before, he would do so again—

"I… love you…"

—only this time, his lips had failed the confession, her voice finding it first.

"_The night is cold_…" he declared in hushed tones, stroking the tilt of her face. Though his eyes were unseeing, he could feel her smile as she finished his sentence for him, "Ah… _let us prepare for bed_…"

By this time tomorrow, chaos would reign over their lives…

But for now, two hearts afforded the luxury of love, before the seven h..lls descended upon their doorstep.

...oOo...

"_Hal'bajaeth_… _desme seth'poralis_… _nethe raye'ruhm_…"

"You should rest, Spellmistress…" a new voice joined her incantation, making her jump. She whirled in her chair, misjudged its stability, and began to fall—

"Easy there, Angel…" her visitor exclaimed, rushing forward to steady her stool, catching her as she yelped. "Now I _know_ you're tired…"

"… the War Spells… for the battlefields…" she yawned, pointing a slender finger towards the aged manuscripts scattered across her workspace, "… must… make… preparations…"

"At the rate you're going, Angel, you'll be dead on your feet before you even _hear _them comin'…" the Knight argued, lifting her easily in his arms, "Come now – though the hours are few, you need your rest…"

She said nothing, as she was carried like an exhausted child to her bed. The covers were pulled over her robes, the contrasting colors making her look ever so small. _Vulnerable her young appearance, yet such power in her palm… _He smiled, brushing the fallen locks away from her face.

"Swordsmaster…" violet eyes peered past lifted lids. He drew closer, "What is it…?"

"I fear tomorrow…"

His smile began to waver, even as knuckles grazed her cheek.

"I know…"

Here was a sheltered soul never meant for such violence; her life was buffered by her well-loved books, her sacred duties… She embraced Life and all its warmth – next to their shared Master, he had the authority to command Death with a hardened heart. She had not witnessed the scenes he had seen, had not performed the deeds he had done…

"We may all die… y-yes…?"

"… Ah…"

She whimpered pitifully, curling unto herself under her quilt.

"Nevertheless, let the emphasis weighs heavily on the word _may_…" he continued, seeking to hold her icy hands. Confused eyes snapped towards him, "B-but you said—"

"You cannot hope to triumph with so little confidence… " soothing tenor graced her ears, "If you do, then the enemy has already won us over before this has even begun…

"Have faith, Dear Heart… as your people have in you…"

"My people…" she echoed, pupils staring off into the distance. Then a smile, befitting this child of ageless beauty, "Thank you, my friend… For speaking these words I needed to hear…"

The man nodded, pressing a kiss on his fingertips, then her forehead. "Sleep well, Angel…"

The doors clicked shut, privacy restored. Outside, Artermicia beamed, another succumbing to her lullaby sent from far, far away…

...oOo...

On the other side of the world, one was not so sure if the gods were as sane as they were claimed to be…

The heavens were mocking him, he was sure of it.

He'd been minding his own business – sulking in a tree, away from the communal fires – when they decided to smack some sense into him… Oh alright, he was exaggerating – a white feather had landed subtly on his newly uncovered birthmark…

_A white feather…_

It was a shame to discard such a beautiful gift from the gods – so lovely its make, fragile and light. But its color reminded him of his past – a past he wished to forget, to have had never been born with…

He had hoped to drown himself with the most _potent_ _vino_ stolen from the infamous lair's guarded treasury. Yet here he was, hours later found hanging lazily in a tree, leg and limbs suspended by branches yielding even under his slight weight…

The gleaming shard sat in his palm, waiting patiently.

"I hate you…"

Refreshed from plunging his head into the icy pond, his feet led him to the Leader's tent. Aged eyes widened with surprise to see him standing there – eyes bloodshot, hair disheveled, water still dripping from its edge…

Nonetheless, for one appearing so inebriated, his voice came out strong – "Father, we need to talk…"

...oOo...

"You have awakened early…"

"I did not sleep…"

"You should have…" came light chiding, though his heart was not in it to rebuke her, "The rotations ensured everyone was well-rested for—"

"I know…" she snapped, sheathing her sharpened blade with more force than required. A sigh, "I just dinna want to…"

"Too many uncertainties…?"

"Ah…"

He returned to her side with a silver goblet welled halfway, "Here…"

Emerald eyes narrowed suspiciously, "What's this…?"

"Mother said it was a _wedding chalice_…" her lover shrugged nonchalantly, "The choice to believe it, however, is entirely yours…"

"A _WEDDIN_—oh… I see…" was her colorful response, an eyebrow raised at the end of it. "Why…?"

"_Why _what?"

"Why are you doing this…?" she expounded, her left hand held up high, the golden band on her fourth finger gleaming in the dancing firelight, "First your ring, now this…"

He mirrored her position, the wineglass lowered onto the sill they shared. "You said so yourself – there are too many things we cannot be sure of…" he turned to her, burning amber against emerald fire, "I wanted to offer you at least one…"

Her breath caught.

Shakily, the glass was lifted, weighed in one hand.

"We may never survive tomorrow…"

"Ah…"

"No hope for a home, a family, a future…"

"Ah…"

"But you'll be with me, forever and a day…"

"Ah…"

"Then that's all I ask…"

The wine was drowned.

And over yonder, a new dawn was breaking…

...oOo...

A thick dark line inched towards the fortress, soulless creatures hacking and burning their way through the landscape. He took a shuddering breath.

"We ride with you, Your Majesty…"

His Personal Guard to his Left, his Faithful Sorceress to his Right.

"We come also, Your Majesty…"

Her Majesty's Knight behind him, and one other…

"The men appreciate your presence in this crucial time, beloved," the Monarch spoke firmly, grave eyes focused on his bride, "But it is too dangerous here – you should return…"

Her mare made no hesitation, the Magus' steed retreating respectfully for her Mistress to stand beside her husband. "I did not come here merely to send our people into battle…" though soft, her words were edged with steel, "I came to fight beside you…"

His glare darkened, "I would not allow it…!!"

The foreigner smiled, "I am spoken for…"

"Ambrosi—"

"Remember, Your Majesty…" an slim hand stilled his gauntlet, wild emerald sparkling behind a crimson veil, "_You hold in your hands the most beautiful Angel to ever grace mortal eyes_; _but one false move __against her whence her appendages are spread_…"

Ahead of his horse, a maiden lowered her cloak. She turned to the sky, begging strength from above. From the depths of her protective armor, two majestic wings burst forth…

"… _and she becomes the most dangerous living weapon set amongst men_…"

Wine-mahogany eyes cleared, the King nodding once, "I remember now…"

The last line of trees disappeared, the enemy's first line of armored puppets sighted. The Crimson Terror stood on his platform mounted upon the back of a massive beast, protected on all sides by a mass of mechanical drones.

"_ANNIHILATE THEM ALL!!_" his bellow sounded across the plains.

The Crowned youth drew his sword, as did his Brotherhood and faithful legion. They raised their swords as one, a united cry echoed throughout the castle, "_BY THE BLOOD AND THE BLADE_…!!"

The War of their forebears began anew…

.

The Sorceress held out her hand, her only weapon a wooden staff crested by a crystal orb and a single climbing rose. The words of her ancestors stirred the skies, the clouds swirling above them. With one last cry, she slammed the rod into the earth. From the heavens a pillar shot downwards into her wand, this bridge between two worlds. The ground hiccupped under the jolt, a white arc sweeping across the lands, mindless pawns falling to bits…

On the other side, the more sinister Magick cursed and slapped his bony palm onto the soil, Dark Powers negating her Spell. The clash between twin forces created a rippling wall of red and gold…

The female magic-user collapsed onto her knees, panting and near tears, "H-he… He's stronger than I expected…"

"We are here for you…" to her astonishment, her maids surrounded her – some with baskets of nourishment, others carrying assortments from her workroom. Supporting her to her feet as they fanned her and arranged her books and instruments for her use before her, they assured, "Tell us what you need, Mistress…

"We have faith in you, always…"

Similar words from only a night before, spilled from honest lips. With that she nodded, her determination returned, "Let's try this one more time…"

.

"Nearly a third of their forces quelled…" one of his Brotherhood reported, steadying his eager horse, "We may have a chance yet…"

He raised his hand. Behind him, the sigh of bowstrings filled the air, the prelude to the song of War. Charging through the hazy cloud of dust left from their first attack, he waited for an opportunity. His Archers held fast to their arrows, hearts pounding, waiting for the hand to lower.

The signal was given. A thousand (and thirteen) missiles were fired, their targets falling to the ground looking like pincushions. As the second line at the castle turrets prepared their own bows, the first switched to their swords.

"Commander…?"

The Brotherhood Leader looked up to his Master upon a guarded platform some distance behind. The White King nodded, once. His Personal Guard grinned, "Sound the charge…"

A horn blared from the front. The lines moved, the roar of soldiers loyal to the Crown deafening.

A chestnut mare galloped beside him, their speed matched.

"You'll be with me…"

"… forever and a day…"

They shared a knowing glance before parting ways, each to their own Fates…

.

He caught her wrist.

"Come back alive…" he hissed urgently, red locked with blue. She gave him a grim nod, "This I promise…"

A heated kiss.

And he released her to the skies, this Angel of Salvation on his side.

_Now, forever, and eternity…_

.

He had lost an eye in a battle long forgotten. He would not lose anything this time around…

The crash of his blade disabled a flailing drone through its dead heart, its head ripped from its body. However, before he could pull back, another doll crashed into his horse, an axe hacking through its neck. His mighty stallion gave a strangled whinny towards the graying skies, before crashing to the ground, its master stumbling off its back. As he lay dazed and winded, a nameless ghoul loomed over him, its scythe-arm poised to strike—

A whistling short-sword flew past its arm, slicing it cleanly from its metallic joint. The scythe fell with a thud inches above the nearly unfortunate Knight's head. While the machine glared at its missing limb, he tore it from the ground and swung it towards its faceless mask before jabbing its tip into the glowing jewel at its torso area.

The hulk fell to pieces to reveal the smirking Lady Brotherhood, "Really, _Fairest Knight_, you shouldn't let your guard down like that…"

He grumbled, blood trickling down the side of his face, the small cut a result of his fatal fall. She had called him by his previous title, from a time where they were rivals before they were lovers. Well, two could play at this game – "Well then, _Squire Girl_, it would seem I owe you one…"

She winked playfully at him, "Indeed. I'd like you to live long enough for me to make good on that favor…"

He echoed her gestures, a devilish smile of his own falling into place, "Likewise, Sweetheart."

"Until we meet again…"

"… By the Blood and the Blade…"

.

The drained Magus clung onto her servants shoulders fearfully. They held her close, patting her back and sponging her sweaty brow.

She had been blasting the opposing legion again and again, commanding the Great Powers from the heavens for several hours. Her Spell offered Her Kingdom small victories, if any at times. However, unlike the wizened Wizard used to such bloodthirsty spells, her neophyte body began to fail her…

"N-no use…" she heaved, collapsing by her books, "Right n-now, the Kingdom needs… a m-miracle… not a M-magician…"

Her attendants huddled around her, calming her fears. Then one peered over the wall and exclaimed, "Look, look – bandits coming from the woodlands…!!"

Eight others scrambled to their feet to share her observation. Amongst them, one began to smile, "Heaven hears the prayers of Her children – he comes at last…"

.

The blond youth yelped in alarm at the charging doll before disarming it, beheading it, and simply jabbing it full of holes – "What the _H..LL_ are these _things_…?!?!"

"Head and hearts! Head and hearts!!" came the voice of a Knight bearing the Imperial Seal on his shoulders, hacking away at a nearby drone. The message was relayed to the gathering brigands, before rushing headlong into the crowded battlefield.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean…?!?!" the leather-clad teenager shouted at the top of his lungs, slashing through the hordes of metallic soldiers. The soulless monsters just would not _die_…!! His short-sword was knocked out of his hand, the armored goons tightening the circle around him. He gulped, "Heh… so much for saving the day…"

A bolo flew towards him, and he ducked. It hit the pair behind him, anchoring them to the ground. A swipe, a lunge, and a kick, and the others were taken care of. The Master Swordsman whirled to face him, a cocky smirk painted on his lips.

"Head and hearts, kid. See, _Head_—" the gray-feathered man took a deliberate swipe at the tied drones struggling against the bolo chain, catching the shelled skull, "—and _Hearts_—" a stab of his Protector Blade into the glowing eye set in the chestplate severed the magical links between metallic joints, the machine rendered useless. "Understand now…?"

"I'll give you _Head _and _Hearts_, foul fowls…!!" a coarse drawl interrupted them as a hulking Saurian loomed over them, clubbed tail spelling their doom.

The blond put his fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle, grabbed the seasoned Knight and yanked him out of harm's way. Before the bulky Saurian General could react, a burning log crashed into him, bowling him over along down the hilly incline…

Amber eyes balked at the sight, shifting slightly towards the gasping lad, "Ingenious… Whose idea was it…?"

"Does it really matter…?!" the fairer man spluttered, "We came to fight – not exchange battle tactic…!!"

The elder one understood his urgency. Pointing across the bloody fields raging still, "Good Luck, kid… From what I've seen, you're gonna need it…"

The young thief growled as he began moving towards the pandemonium, "Shaddap…!!"

"And kid…?"

"_What_?!"

His Majesty's Knight raised his sword to his beak, then a sweeping bow.

"Welcome Home… my Prince…"

.

The walls surrounding him begin to thin as the Western Armies fell.

The Dark Powers within him began to wane, the clash between Mages beginning to take its toll. He needed fresh blood – and he needed it _NOW_…!!

It was most regrettable his lizard brother would have to die for his cause.

"Magus, Magus, the Southern Division will hold no longe—_AIYEE!!_"

Blood drained faster than water from a leaking canister, gnarled fingers digging into the child-like head of the other. Deed done, he separated himself from the shriveled husk frozen in horror, letting it shatter at his feet.

"Mock me, you did, pathetic Puckworld peasant," the gaunt creature laughed hollowly, raising his cloaking shield once more, "We shall see who is the worthier Spellmaster…"

.

The Reigning youth slashed viciously at the nearest hulking doll, his white steed abandoned long ago, its foreleg broken as it trampled a rival soldier to death. Before he could climb over its body, another lifeless creature replaced its presence, double swords ready to tear him limb from limb. He snarled at the advancing drone, slicing its legs off before ramming a protected fist into its jeweled center. The lights dimmed from its eyes, a mangled heap of metal scraps at his feet.

He glanced about him, assessing his Kingdom's position. There were more men than mechanical beasts still standing, which yielded an upper hand. If only he could disable the Saurian Sorcerer controlling these metal monsters, then that would leave only a lone Overlord to be dealt—

"_PREPARE TO DIE, BOY!!_"

—he whirled to find Fate had decided to fulfill his wishes a little too soon.

High upon his ghastly creature, the Vermillion Tyrant leapt upon Puckworld's Keeper…

.

The trembling woman wailed, her aching body giving into the dreaded Mage Fevers at last, "He's gotten stronger…!! I-I canna stop him… Too late… Too la—" she paused in her ramblings, her gaze falling on a stray page in the lap of one of her assistants, "Wait… _Eternal Oblivion_…? Yes, yes, that's it…!!" She crawled to her feet, fighting her reluctant aides, "One last spell… Please… My last before entering my own _eternal oblivion_…"

The maids stared at each other, unwilling for her latter words to come true. However, they knew the price paid to serve in the Court – would they allow it…?

A bold woman stepped forward, bringing the parchment and her Mistress closer together. "One more is all, M'Lady…" with an encouraging smile, she added, "And make it count…!!"

.

Another volley of weighted reeds whizzed past her cherry-red braid as she ducked behind a boulder, one leg broken. Her main weapon had been rendered useless, and she had both lost her throwing daggers and exhausted her quiver these hours past. Unless a healer or arms-maiden found her soon, she would meet her demise this day.

She spied upon a fallen quiver belonging to a knighthood brother not too far from her, _DuCaine bless his soul…_ If she could just jump towards it and notch her crossbow—

Her opponent paused to ready its own weapon, metallic claws clicking noisily against the heavy wood. She slid herself into the open, diving for the sought-after feathered shafts.

Her leap of faith was an arm's length too short – she panicked.

The mechanical puppet raised its arms.

She dug her good leg into the blood-soaked soil, begging traction. She knew she would not be spared, her Fate sealed. _If I die now, I take this one with me…_

The bowstrings snapped, the deadly missiles on its way.

A hoarse shriek.

Yet, there was no pain, no agony of defeat… but how—

A dark shadow fell into her arms, chipped beak in a snarl. He ripped the bloodstained arrow from his flesh, hollering curses till Kingdom come. In a demanding, clipped tone as he handed it to her, he barked, "Machine's reloading. Arrow to bow, _NOW_!!"

She fired.

.

A spell to take out the Hope of the nation, razing the Puckworld castle from within. All the Dark Mage required was a little more time… just a little more ti—

Something prickled at his senses, his concentration stolen.

He raised his crested head—

—a blinding white bolt streaked towards him—

The femme Magician had spotted him…!! But how – she was a mere child, of magical infanc—

It shattered his protective dome, lashed at his neck.

The ground opened up, Death's dark maw yawning to swallow his d..mned soul…

… into _Eternal Oblivion_…

.

There was a whirring gurgle, a strangled whine, as all the dolls around them broke apart with a clatter of rusted shards.

She didn't notice.

Wide emerald eyes stared down at the spreading crimson across his front. "Y-you're hurt…"

He winced, "Tell me something I don't kno—" words dissolved into an anguished howl.

"S-stop moving…!!" she shrilled, stilling him in her lap, "Goddess, so much blood—"

"A lung, my liver and my side…" the Royal Knight spat through a gate of gritted teeth. He choked out a small laugh, "Looks like I'm not going to live through my end of the bargain, Sweetheart…"

"Don't speak of such things…!!" the Princess Guard hissed, though it bordered tears, not anger. "You can't die—I won't let you—if you die, I'll—"

"Look at me, Sweetheart…"

"… n-no…!!"

"Please look at me…?"

"… don't g-go…"

"Pretty… little… lassie…" he teased.

He stroked her perfect cheek, a thumb under her perfect eye. "Love you…"

The quivering light in his singular eye faded, the raised hand touching her face fell away.

She called his name – once, twice, three times. Of all the times she thought him dead, he finally breathed his last on her lap.

"_NOOO!!_"

.

"Your Legion has fallen," the lither one remarked, wiping away the lifeforce trickling past his chin, "Surrender now and I promise you a swift and painless execution…"

The towering Overlord roared as he flew towards the battered Monarch, "_NEVER!!_"

The curved blades held in the Saurian's deadly talons shredded through His Majesty's cuirass, a gaping hole raked into his side. A quick lash of his heavy tail knocked the wind from his screaming lungs, blood and bile spat onto the wet soil beneath his hands. The King's vision sparked, strength sapped from his aching limbs…

"If I am to die, _BOY_ – at least you'll die before _ME_…!!"

Blood splattered against angelical feathers.

The Saurian hissed in pain, cradling his arm missing its claw to his chest.

Silver-blue eyes flashed before him as a pair of snow-white wings parted, the image of an Archangel revealed.

"_You_…!!" the Tyrant King exclaimed, then a dark laugh, "Wings… Heh, if I had known you were such a _treasure _beforehand, I would not have dismissed you so easily…"

"That was your first mistake…" her voice echoed as her wings glowed, threads spreading through her feathers. She raised her Protector Sword, the cursed _childling_ and the Princess becoming one, voices raised, "Striking against _our _Kingdom would be your _LAST_…!!"

She flew towards him, her sword drawn. The Saurian Warlord parried her singing blade, swiping at her spread appendages. Its edge drew blood, but not without landing a gnash of its own as it jerked itself back, catching his arm. Its counterpart swooped past his head. He ducked and brandished his claws—

A little away, the fallen Sovereign watched in horror as a voice whispered beside his ear, _The most beautiful Angel… _

The Archangel smirked at such a tempting invitation, lips curling into a saucy smile. Her blade whistled past the wrist…

_… but one false move… _

Her opponent's sword clattered to the ground, no hands left to grasp a weapon.

_… the most dangerous living weapon…_

She somersaulted herself into the air, twin dagger unsheathed from her boots. Diving towards the Saurian as he followed her movements, the thick column of his neck exposed.

Her arms swung outwards, a cross embedded into her adversary's leathery hide.

The Dragonling choked, clawless hands pressed against his torn flesh. Staggering backwards, the last his eyes did see – his murderer licking seductively at her daggers, his blood staining her tongue…

The ground shook with the fall of a giant…

The last surviving Saurian Overlord, was no more…

.

"A-ambro-sia…?" the appalled Emperor called forth his Queen. Indeed, his arch nemesis deserved death – but so merciless to rob an enemy of his defense, a dishonor to her blade…

And he had seen her smile.

The _Demonling enjoyed_ butchering her prey…

_The Demonling…!!_

He fought to stand, protesting muscles struggling to support his weight. He braced himself against his sword, his voice like stone, "Ambrosia, to me…"

The Archangel pivoted herself to face him. A sneer, "Ambrosia…?"

A laugh, eyes slit, "Ah yes… _your beloved Princess_…

"Why should she return to you, the _Lover's fool_…? She has _me_ – and that's all she'll ever need…"

Unfazed, he threw away his only weapon, his hands outstretched. A little louder, he repeated, "Ambrosia, to me…!"

The Archangel laughed, "You do know I can kill you most easily, _blind weakling_… I have taken down a Saurian Overlord – what is a mere Puckworld King…?"

The voice of her Personal Guard, _"… I have much faith my Lady cannot hold enough emotion to cut you…"_

_"Believe her… Understand…"_

"Ambrosia, to me…!!"

She took a menacing stance towards him, her jeweled dagger raised.

"_I have not believed, but I can try…_" he spoke the words of a promise, praying the woman within the trappings of the Archangel would hear, "_I cannot pretend to understand, but I can learn…_"

The daggers lowered, eyes flickered between Silver and Blue.

"_For you, to brave the knives that bar us from each other is worth the blood shed, the sheets stained…_"

Her disobedient leg took a hesitant step forward. The Archangel glared at it, "How _dare_ you…!!"

"_I accept you, beloved…_"

Another step, knives falling from her hands. Her angelic double hissed at her, "Stop! Stop!! What are you doing…?!?!"

"_I love you…_"

She came to him, her pupils undecided, her frame trembling. He did not wince as the only appendages within the Sprite's command lashed out at him, thin lines cut into his arms, swelling up with crimson life. He stared down at her with a smile, "_And let no one tell you otherwise…_"

She flung her head back, a trilling shriek wrenched from her throat as her alter-ego left her, poisoned silver following the wraith expulsion.

Then she collapsed into his opened arms, falling to the ground as one…

"Is it over…?" his beloved's quivering voice returned, muffled into his chest.

He lifted his head to survey the dismal battlefield. The Saurian forces had fallen, its surviving members either exiled or dead. Far and away, his knights were riding towards him, the Great Gates eager to receive their victorious Ruler…

He held her tightly, tightly.

"Yes, it is over…" a light kiss to her dirty forehead, "Come, let's go home…"

...oOo...

_Aoi Akiko rambles:_

_**Epilogue** coming out very, very soon...!! cowers from k2's whip Oops - have to go now before k2 kills me..._

_**Grin** plays his last, most important role... sniffsniff I'm going to miss the big guy...  
And later, **Nosedive **comes to the rescue...!! Ah... at least one rescue...  
But **Duke **has to die... wailsblinkblink um... don't kill mwe...?_

_Now for side notes:  
[1] **Mallory **calling **Duke **'Fairest Knight', vice versa him calling her 'Squire girl' came from an original script idea later written off... For those interested, please email me   
[2] **Dragaunus **saying, "PREPARE TO DIE, BOY!!" - just tell me you can her his voice saying "bo-YY!!"  
[3] k2 thinks the duel/dual personalities between **Ambrosia **and **Archangel **was a little OOC, even for an OC, but Kei liked it... Um... since I'm closer to Kei than k2, he wins this debate... _

_Of origins:  
[1] London, 1999, I chanced upon a program called 'Antique Roadshow' where people from all walks of life bring in their antiques to be valued by a professional. One such was a jeweled key, whose significance was 'surrender to the receiving party', usually leading to the death of the former... I can't remember which european country, but one of them... frown Hmm... what was I doing in 1999...??  
[2] An 'arms-maiden' (I gave Mallory a girl, for some odd reason) is usually a knight's page/squire/apprentice. In times of war, some follow their masters, carrying fresh weapons (swords, daggers, arrows, etc). However, humanity intervened before the idea became too wide-spread, due to the number of inexperienced young boys lost in the field. Later years, a knight had to carry everything he would ever need either on his back, or on his horse. Looting a knight became very profitable soon after... _

_._

_blink Review, kudasai...? _


	11. Epilogue

No. _Mighty Ducks, the animated series_ not mine.   
But _Princess Ambrosia _and story are mine

.

...oOo...  
  
.: Epilogue :.  
  
...oOo...

.

The man paced the halls restlessly. The newly appointed Royal Knight of one year rolled her eyes heavenward, "Your Majesty, you must calm dow—"

"Calm down…? _CALM DOWN_…?!" the Sovereign echoed, wild eyes ablaze with cinnamon fire, "_FOR WHAT REASON MUST I CALM DOWN_?!?!"

The cherry-haired Guard took a careful step back, "No reason in particular, M'Lord – please, carry on…" Once out of earshot, she mumbled to herself, "Just thought I should save the carpets, is all…"

"Blasted Spellmistress…" the Crowned One groused, finally taking to a chair but mangling the cushions instead, "If she hadn't Silenced the whole Royal Bedchambe—"

"Is it here? Is it here?!" another bounced into the antecedent room, only adding to her misery as Lady Brotherhood groaned into her hand, "Come _on_ – I've _got_ to be an Royal Uncle by _now_…!! Mama Puckworld's been in labor for more than half-a-mornin—"

"Hey-hey-hey…!! Guard your tongue, O _Prince of Ridiculous Petnames_…" the eldest amongst them began, snapping at the lad, "She whom you call _Mama Puckworld_ outranks you by half…!!"

"_Please_, O _Lord of Stringent Rules and Regulations _– she _likes_ me calling her that…"

The taller of the pair towered over his rival, "You'll take that back and hold your beak—"

The blond haired teen stuck out his tongue, "Make me…!!"

"Why I outta teach you a Royal lesson—"

"Haha…!! Can't catch me! Can't catch me…!!"

The crimson-crowned woman standing behind them shook her head, _And they thought they'd never get along as brothers…_

Had it only been a year…?

.

Blood examinations were performed on the newly reunited brothers, determining the truth behind the Mage's words. Less than a fortnight following his confirmed identity, the Kingdom received a new Heir to the throne…

A pledge between brothers led the Kingdom to greater distinctions – the elder attending to matters of the Court and State in general, the younger managing matters pertaining to the People… Their greatest feat was the elimination of any and all suspected to be involved with the Saurian Onslaught, tried and hung for treason to the King…

The Kingdom was rebuilt, aid enlisted from the bandits led by the Country's Young Heir. Villagers were relocated nearer the castle until their lands recovered from the untimely invasion, a time would come when their farms would prosper, their businesses would thrive.

.

All this aside…

Her constant complaints were not ignored by the Winged Empress, to whom she remained ever loyal. A small plot of land within the Palace Gardens transformed into a memorial for those lost in the Wars. By a small waterfall a single gravestone lay, bearing the name of the King's Personal Guard of 15 years, the Brotherhood's most admired Leader of 13, and her lover of 11…

She missed him dearly, the ring on her finger her faithful reminder…

She had not mourned his death alone – her shy friend had locked herself in her Spell room, refusing food and water, for a week… By the time she climbed through the window to rescue the shaken Sorceress, she was more ill than plagued by a thousand Mage Fevers…

New duties kept the Court Magician's days full of activities, lifting her spirits little by little. An invitation to join the Council, attending to the Young Heir's needs, guiding her newly appointed apprentices – yes, yes, _apprentices_…!! _Eight_ young women, previously her maids… After witnessing her prowess with a wand, they begged lessons – to the extreme of allowing her full authority to change them into whatever furry forest creature she deemed worthy if they made a mistake.

She chuckled at the memory…

Shortly after her friend's promotion, she received one of her own : the Kingdom's First Lady Knight guarding the Royal Household – the King, the Queen… and the child they would conceive…

It was more than she could hope for… her charge with child, of course – though, if she were honest, her elevated status was a wonderful bonus…

Everything was alright…

Right…?

.

"Hey, Girlfriend…" a bright voice startled her from her musings, blond locks whispered against her cheek, "You alright…? You've been kinda quiet over here…"

She swatted at the boy's head, though it was not meant to hurt, "I am fine, my Prince…"

"We decided on a truce, just so you know…" the younger one announced, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. She peered over his decorated tunic—

"Your Majesty…!!"

The sullen young man was nursing a tender bruise just above his right eye. "I have your attention at last, my Knight – thank you for aiding me against my _brother_…"

She glared at him, her hands on her hips, "Now, now, Your Majesty – your specific instructions were to never interfere with your _sibling rivalr_—"

The doors separating the rooms burst open, a disheveled but otherwise beaming Magick stepping into the light.

"Congratulations, M'Lord…" the cheerful woman announced, holding a bundle to the neo-father's eyes, "You have been blessed with a prince…"

No words could describe the father's joy as he cooed at his tiny daughter. "And my Cherished…?"

"The Queen wishes to see you also, M'Lord…"

He rushed into his bedchambers, "Beloved…"

Paleness and exhaustion hid not the maternal glow as she stretched out her arms towards both her husband and her babe in his arms, "My husband…

"We have a son, my love…"

"Indeed, Ambrosia…"

"Lemme hold him! Lemme hold him…!!" a golden blur bounced into the space opposite his brother, "Pleasepleasepleaseplease…!! My nephew has been waiting for 9 whole _months_ to see his Uncle…!!"

"Do you even know how to hold a baby, brother mine…?"

"_O ye of little Faith_!! I had a cutsie little sister back home in the village and she turned out alright, didn't she?!"

Leaning against the doors, two women looked onto the happy family.

"How fares our future, Lady Brotherhood…?"

The shorter one snorted, "With the exception of the _Prince of Thieves_ teaching the Prince how to swipe the Palace Silverware…?" A sigh, "What do _you _think, Spellmistress…?"

The golden haired one smiled, "Mm… Everything's alright.

"Right…?"

She nodded too, "Right."

.

.: Finale :.

.

_k2: Hey hey - **Dive**'s finally IC...!! Bouncing around, jumping on the beds, just being the happy-go-lucky kid brother we all adore (cue for everyone to go "Aww...") glomps Now that's the **Nosedive** I know and love...!!_

_Akiko sweatdrops   
Mm... I'm actually glad he's keeping his casual drawl... 'twould be a change for **Wing** to have someone of noble blood yet speaks plainly his heart and mind..._

_Aoi Akiko rambles:_

_I'm done...!! I'm finished...!! Kei, I love you...!! ahem Oops - did I say that out loud...?? =.= Aren't I a wicked little kitty nyao_

...oOo...

_Origin notes:  
[1] Blood examinations were performed to determine the paternity of long-lost children of highly-ranked officials and of suspected royalty, to keep the bloodlines pure. It involved a priest, a pair of silver daggers, and a bowl of water. I don't know how THAT could EVER determines paternity, but sigh..._

...oOo...

_BTW, the 'Once upon a time' riddle in the 'Introduction' 's chapter 2) goes like this:_

_One would be blinded by time, another by duty, the third by the darkness…  
Time = **Nosedive**, for losing his memories and never recovering them until later...  
Duty = **Wildwing**, for being King and never able to experience life outside his duties to the throne...  
Darkness = **Canard** - do you really need me to expound on this...? **Draggy** gouged his eyes out for goodness sake - oops... did I just reveal something some people have yet to figure out...? _

_One would betray his King, the other his beating heart…  
__King = **Falcone**, for being a traitor to the throne...  
Heart = **Duke**, for dying in the fields..._

_One would find her place among her books, the next her sword, the last her people…  
__(intended for Books = **Mallory**, Sword = **Ambrosia**, and People = **Tanya**, __but the change in original plot did not show in the end...)_

...oOo...

_Scenes inspired by music: Tenkuu no Escaflowne (OST 1, 2, 3 and Lovers Only), GundamSeed collection (all themes and inserts), Lord of the Rings: Return of the King OST (esp 2nd half of 'The return of the King' for Epilogue)_

...oOo...

_Special thanks to: (my muses) **Eisce **(imaginary) and **Kei **(real), (beta and slave-driver) **k2**, (reviewers) **Silver Elf Child **(Jin), **DevLeigh**, **Daniella l'orange**, **Becks Michael**, **Lily C**, **Miyo86**, **Cat61**, **Linchi**, and **Raphael **  
Love you...!!_

_Much appreciated if you leave a review, but will not fault you if you don't. I wrote this for you, and enjoyed myself immensely. Hope you enjoyed it too _

_._

_._

_._


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